Behind Blue Eyes
by Thnx4theGum
Summary: A new chapter in the "Wonderful World" and "Home" saga."It's a horrible thing when little girls go missing," is a mysterious caller's message to Booth that sets a wild adventure in motion. Can they crack the mystery in the mail in time? T for case content
1. Candles and Callers

Chapter 1

"Happy Birthday, dear Sadie! Happy Birthday to you," chorused the small crowd.

At the head of the table, the little girl blew with all of her might, sending five small puffs of smoke into the air to mix with the scent of cheap candle wax and processed sugar. The moment of silence erupted into boisterous applause and the birthday girl's grin widened with the approval.

"What'd you wish for, Squirt?" Seeley Booth asked, whisking her out of the way as his wife swooped in to cut the cake.

"Daddy," the little girl wagged her head, eyeing him as if he should know better, "I can't tell, 'r else it won't come true."

He grinned and nodded, then gave her a quick hug before releasing her to her friends with a sigh. It didn't seem possible that she was five already. She was growing up too quickly on him. Leaning up against the dining room wall, he contented himself with watching Sadie's pre-k class devour the cake and ice cream, and once again was thankful he'd gone for faux hardwood floors over carpet for this room.

"I don't know why you continue to perpetuate such myths with her," his wife joined him after she had finished satisfying the mini mob with sweets.

He shrugged, swiping her fork from her and stealing a bite of cake from her plate, "It's fun, Bones, and besides, Sadie knows it isn't real."

"Like Santa Claus?" she scowled, reclaiming the fork for a bite of her own.

"Yup," the fork changed hands a third time.

"So in other words, the two of you have reached a tacit agreement to forgo the truism that wishes made on confectionary treats cannot, indeed, be granted, in an attempt to indulge in childlike whimsy?" she asked, finishing the rest of the cake with a triumphant smirk.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bones," he winked, encircling her waist with his hands and dropping a brief kiss on her sugar-coated lips.

"Seriously!" a voice sounded from behind them, "Do you two _have_ to do that in public?"

Booth pulled back and eyed his ten year old son from over Bones' shoulder, "Hey, last I checked this house was private property, Park-o, and you and the giggle brigade there," he waved a finger at Parker's companions, "weren't much more than squatters."

"What's a squadder?" seven year old Joey piped up.

Ten year old Maddie hushed her brother just as Bones opened her mouth, no doubt to give the Joey the unabridged dictionary definition.

"On second thought, Dad," Parker cut his step-mother off, "maybe you should kiss her after all."

At that, the three party-crashers turned, running down the hall and skidding upstairs as fast as they could.

Bones got a puzzled look on her face, "Did he mean-"

Booth was saved from having to explain what Parker meant by a loud ringing from his pocket. He plucked out the phone, threw his wife a charm smile, and flipped it open.

"Hello?" he answered, dodging kids left and right as he moved through the dining room and into the kitchen to escape the noise.

The response was garbled, so Booth repeated himself as he stepped out onto the back porch, sliding the glass door closed behind him.

"Are your girls safe, Agent Booth?" the scrambled voice on the other end asked, sending a chill down Booth's spine.

He unconsciously reached for his sidearm; the one that was missing because Bones didn't think he needed to wear a gun to their daughter's fifth birthday party. He knelt down for the one hidden on his calf.

"Who is this?" he asked calmly as his senses heightened and his eyes sought visual confirmation that Sadie and Maddie were okay.

"It's a horrible thing when little girls go missing," the caller ignored the question.

Through the glass door Booth spotted Sadie moving to the living room to open her presents just as Maddie bounded down the steps with Joey and Parker on her heels.

"Who are you?" Booth demanded again, putting an edge on his voice, eyes sweeping the perimeter of the property for anything out of place.

"They need justice, Agent Booth," the voice intoned, "And time is running out."

"Who needs justice?" Booth asked.

"Check your mail," was the only response.

"What does that even mean?" Booth was getting frustrated.

"Ask your wife," the reply came.

And the line went dead.

On the other side of the door, Bones caught sight of him, arched a questioning eyebrow at the palm-sized gun he was clutching, all the while drawing the kids' attention to the front of the room so that they wouldn't see it. Quickly, he shoved the gun in his waistband, covering it with his shirt. Tracing a circle in the air with his finger, he mimed that he was going to have a look around. Bones nodded, though her look said she expected answers later.

With one last look from the higher vantage point, he took the porch steps two at a time down to the back yard. He set out toward the back of the property at a steady pace, hand ready to snatch the gun if he needed to. The only things out of place were some of the kids' toys, but there were no signs in the soft ground that anyone had been lurking in the back hedges.

He was regretting owning a full acre of property by the time he made it to the front yard, but again, nothing was out of place, and he was starting to wonder if he was overreacting. Returning the hand gun to his calf holster, he turned back to the house just as kids began spilling out the front door, making a bee-line for the inflatable moon-bounce he'd set up earlier that morning.

"I still don't get why Max thought we needed one of these things," he groused, meeting up with Bones, and praying as hard as he could that she didn't bring up the gun or his impromptu inspection right now.

"We're fortunate," she shrugged, obviously getting the message that now wasn't the time, "Russ and Amy were the recipients of a large, inflatable water slide. It seems he enjoys being an over-indulgent grandparent."

"Yeah well," Booth smirked, sending a mock salute across the yard to Max, "That's why he's in charge of crowd control today."

A water balloon whizzed past Booth's head and he turned sharply to see who the assailant was. From the other side of the yard, Parker and Joey waved and beside them, Jack Hodgins blushed.

"Angela said he's been working on that launcher for quite some time," Bones commented, "and he was apparently very excited to test its capabilities."

"It's _March_," Booth complained, "Couldn't he have waited until summer or something?"

Another near-miss curtailed any response and Bones announced that she was going to go monitor them personally. Booth stayed by the moon-bounce, keeping track of where each and every kid was at all times. The call had rattled him, and more than anything he needed to make sure that those under his care remained safe.

He was never more relieved when parents started pulling up the long driveway for their kids, leaving him with one less charge that he was responsible for. The party, it seemed, was a huge success, and Sadie was already making grand plans for next year's event. Booth chuckled, reminding her that next year was a long way off.

"Daddy," she yawned as he tucked her in that night, "Can Maddie and Joey stay for good now?"

He shook his head sadly and kissed her lightly on the forehead, "No, kiddo, they have to go back to their school on Monday."

"B'cause Easter's over tomorrow?" she asked.

He nodded, "But at least they got to come for your birthday this year since it was the same week as Easter break, and summer's not too far away."

"I like summer," she murmured, snuggling deeper under her covers and clutching her worn dolphin to her chest, "That's when my big family comes back."

"I like that too," he told her, "Now get some sleep, little girl, we've got another big day tomorrow."

"Daddy," she called out again just before he closed the door, "Can I always be your little girl, even when I'm six next year?"

"Always," he promised.

"G'Night, Daddy."

"Good night, Sadie-girl."


	2. Patience is a Virtue

**Thanks so much for all of the feedback! Hope you all are enjoying this as much as I am.**

Chapter 2

On the outside, Temperance Joy Booth was the quintessential picture of a gracious host and loving mother, but on the inside she was burning with curiosity as to what had prompted her husband to go for his gun in the middle of their daughter's fifth birthday party; albeit out of sight of the partygoers. She was certain that his agitation stemmed from the phone call he'd received, but beyond that she couldn't tell and he was being very closemouthed for the time being.

She sighed as she finished scolding the two boys as well as Jack Hodgins for shooting the water balloons near Sadie and her guests. This would normally fall under Angela's purview, but the artist was at home with two sick children and couldn't make the party. Deciding that there were enough responsible adults for her presence outside to be unnecessary, she went back inside.

The only problem, she thought ruefully, with the two-story house that she and Seeley had purchased just before their first anniversary, was that it made for a copious amount of floor space to keep clean; especially after such a large party. For a moment she contemplated leaving the bulk of the mess for her husband to clean up since he was the one who had insisted that they invite Sadie's entire class, but their views on what constituted a "clean" room were so diametrically opposed she dismissed the idea just as quickly.

In the living room, sandwiched on the sofa between a pile of discarded presents and heaps of crumpled wrapping paper, she found Maddie, curled up with a worn book.

"_The Secret Garden_ was always one of my favorites as well," she commented, unfurling a large, plastic trash bag.

Maddie smiled shyly up at her and set aside the book to help, "Yeah, I remember it was one of the books we read together that first summer."

"And you got lost at the Hodgins' estate trying to discover a secret garden of your own," Temperance smiled fondly at the remembrance.

"I had no idea it was so big," Maddie giggled and met her foster mother's eyes, "Did I tell you that my science teacher e-mailed me my grade on our paper today?"

Temperance shook her head and Maddie continued, "I got an 'A' and she said I had 'an excellent grasp of the scientific method,'" the girl smirked, "I haven't told her about my ace in the hole."

"You did fine on your own," the scientist assured her, thankful that e-mail and instant messaging allowed them to keep in daily contact despite the distance between them, "I merely proofed your paper."

"And hauled us to the Jeffersonian every summer," Maddie added, "I think Grandpa Max would be insulted if we didn't have the method down by now! My teacher was super impressed when I knew that the Mentos were disrupting the surface tension on the cola when we did that at the beginning of the year."

"Have you decided what your topic of inquiry will be for the science fair?" she asked as they finished straightening up the living room and moved into the dining room.

"I think I'm going to go with the one on bean growth over the magnet one," Maddie answered.

They'd spent a good portion of the week that Maddie and Joey had been home discussing the science fair coming up in May. Joey had already decided to see which vegetables conducted electricity the best.

"And what will your hypothesis be?" the teacher in Dr. Brennan prodded.

"That the beans grown in the lower pH levels will fare better than those grown in higher ones," the girl answered immediately, "I'm going to use sodium, calcium, and potassium hydroxides for my solutions."

"And which do you predict will yield the best results?"

Maddie shrugged, "Should be the calcium hydroxide, but I guess we'll see."

Temperance smiled proudly at her foster daughter, though she was prevented from any comments as Joey, Parker, and Jack entered through the rear glass door.

"Somebody's speaking my language," Jack exclaimed, his grin stretching from ear to ear, "What concentration are you using?"

"Several different ones, actually," Maddie explained.

"Make sure you use distilled water to dilute," he warned, "And _always_ use gloves."

Maddie pulled out a pair of latex gloves from her back pocket, "Will these do?"

"That's our girl!" Jack rewarded her with another wide grin and a fist bump.

"Uncle Jack," Joey spoke up, not wanting to be left out, "Can you help me decide which veggies to blow up?"

"Sure, kiddo," Jack said, his enthusiasm easily matching Joey's.

"No," Temperance shook her head, "No, he needs to see which vegetables best conduct electricity; explosives need not be involved."

"I'll make up a list of good ones to test," Jack winked at the disappointed boy, "And if you do your best, I'll let you shoot off the potato gun when you come home."

"Awesome!" Joey yelled, as he and Parker exchanged high-fives.

"I'm doing a wind tunnel," Parker informed Jack, "Grandpa Max is gonna help me build one at the lab after school."

Joey was impressed, but Temperance caught the quick flash of jealousy that flashed across Maddie's face at the mention of the Jeffersonian lab. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be able to give hands-on assistance to Maddie and Joey there with their projects as she was able to do for Parker. All ill-will fled Maddie's visage, though as Jack regaled the children with the humorous parts of how Max had been able to help the squints solve a case using a wind tunnel such as the one Parker would be constructing.

Her cell phone sounded at her side, "Brennan."

"The minivans are coming," Seeley's voice greeted her on the other end, "Thought you'd want to know."

"I'll be out momentarily with the parting gifts," she informed him.

"Party favors, Bones," he corrected, "And I'll go round up Sadie."

They said goodbye and she tasked the three older children with finishing the cleaning efforts. Jack offered to supervise, which she had no problems with as his standards of cleanliness were even higher than her own.

An hour later, the house was clean, the guests gone, and the leftover pizza had been consumed for dinner. Sadie selected a movie to watch, but fell asleep halfway through it and had to be carried to bed by her father. As none of the remaining children wished to continue watching the _My Little Pony_ film, Max started a game of Blitz, which lasted until Temperance announced that it was time for bed.

She didn't miss Seeley pulling her father aside as she steered the children toward their rooms, but she restrained herself from joining the conversation, instead focusing on the task at hand. Joey was the only one of the older three who still enjoyed being tucked into bed for the night, and once that was done, Temperance snuck into the girls' room, placing a kiss on her younger daughter's forehead.

"Love you, Mama," Sadie mumbled, eyes still closed.

"I love you too, Sadie," Temperance smiled.

Across the room, Maddie folded a worn sheet of paper before settling into her covers. In the soft beam of Sadie's night light, Temperance caught a glistening in the older girl's eyes.

"You are loved as well," she assured Maddie softly, kneeling beside the bed and stroking Maddie's long, blonde hair.

Maddie offered a small, sad smile before closing her eyes to sleep. Temperance kissed her brow and padded out of the room.

"Troops all settled?" Seeley asked as she gained the living room, handing her a glass of wine to match his own.

She nodded and decided she'd been patient for long enough, "What was the phone call you received about? Why were you so bothered by it? How is my father involved?"

"You know I married you for you subtlety skills, Bones," he flashed her his cocky smile and she refused to grant him the satisfaction of a response.

After a moment's silence, his countenance grew more grim, "Do you know what 'Check your mail' means? Beyond the obvious, common meaning?"

She frowned, "No. Should I?"

"The guy on the other end seemed to think so," Seeley sighed, then shook his head, "It was the weirdest thing, Bones. Whoever it was started out by asking me if the girls were safe, then said that it was a horrible thing when little girls disappeared. The voice was scrambled and I kept asking who he was, but all I got was that somebody needs justice and time is running out. I asked him what _that_ meant and he told me to check my mail and that you would know what that meant."

"Well, I don't," she stated the obvious, "Do you think someone was threatening Maddie and Sadie?"

"Not sure," his brow furrowed, "It almost seemed like it, but then he was going on about justice too. Either way, I figured it couldn't hurt for Max to know," he held up a hand at her frowned, "Look, if I get in a fight, Max Keenan's the guy I want watching my back. It's not like I asked him to go poking around in the underworld; I just let him know what was going on."

"You keep saying _he_," she decided to ignore her father's involvement for the present, "Do you believe the caller was male?"

"Like I said, the voice was scrambled," he ran a hand through his hair, "But I'd lay odds it was a guy."

"_If_ you weren't a degenerate gambler," she said pointedly.

"Touché," he grinned, draining his glass.

"Well," she said, considering the new information, "There's no postal service on Sundays, so I suppose we can't do anything until Monday. Meanwhile, I believe Maddie could benefit from some direct attention from you."

"Is she okay?" he was instantly concerned.

"Physically, yes," she nodded, "And she appeared to enjoy herself this past week, however, today she seemed melancholy and when I went to check on Sadie, she had been reading her letter again."

"Three years isn't nearly enough time for her to get over losing her mom."

"I know," the reply came a bit sharper than she meant for it to, "I know; however I can't help but wonder if the situation isn't exacerbated by her constantly being shuttled between here and Pennsylvania."

The old argument lay unspoken between them as they stood to get ready for bed, taunting them to once again question if they were doing what was in Maddie and Joey's best interest. No matter how many times they'd discussed it over the last three and a half years, they'd always come to the conclusion that they couldn't do any better; their jobs would not permit it. But that had never stopped her from wondering if their conclusions were true, or if they were merely unwilling to sever their partnership for the sake of expanding their family.


	3. Bones

Chapter 3

That night, Booth slept like a sniper: lightly and with his gun all but under his pillow. At three in the morning he heard a noise and immediately was up and out of bed, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. Fortunately, he didn't wake Bones up in the process.

Padding silently out of the bedroom, he first checked on the boys' room, where he found the source of the noise was Joey, who had fallen out of bed, but was still sound asleep. Carefully, Booth scooped the boy up in his arms and placed him back in bed, tucking him securely under the covers. Neither Joey nor Parker woke up and Booth moved on to the girls' room.

Silence greeted him as he eased the bedroom door open. He stood still for a long moment, watching for their chests to rise and fall and assure him that everything was as it should be. Sadie let out a small sigh and Maddie turned over in her sleep and he sighed in relief. Moving to the window, he made certain that the lock was secure, then left, fighting the urge to curl up on the middle of the floor and sleep there, where he could be sure they were safe.

Instead, still fully awake, he went downstairs and triple-checked the security system. If anything bigger than a fly entered the house, it would go off. Satisfied, he went into the kitchen for a bowl of cereal and some milk.

"Everything alright?" Bones' voice nearly made him choke on the milk he was chugging straight from the carton and he spun around quickly.

"Geez, Bones," he set the now-empty carton aside, "Give me a heart-attack why don't you?"

"No thank you," she smiled slyly at him, helping herself to his cereal, "I've gotten used to having you underfoot and you know how poorly I adapt to change."

"Funny, Bones," he conjured up a smile for her, digging out a second spoon for himself and refilling the bowl, "Plus, who would feed you if I were gone?"

"You're worried that the girls are in danger," it was more of a statement than a question.

He waved his spoon around dramatically, "Well, gee, a creepy guy-"

"Person," she corrected.

"Whatever. He calls my personal cell number, during our daughter's birthday party, and all but threatens her safety, all the while giving out cryptic clues that don't mean _anything_ to us right now; not to mention whatever's going on with Maddie," he let out an irritated breath, "So, yeah, Bones, I'm a little on-edge tonight."

Her left hand snaked around his bicep to soothe the tense muscles, while her right cupped his jaw and forced him to look her in the eyes.

"You are a sniper-trained FBI Agent in a house with an exemplary security system," her voice was soft, but firm, "I would like to think that grants us more than a modicum of protection."

"You're right," he conceded, "You are, I just-" he shook his head, "I don't like it when people threaten my family."

"Come back to bed," she urged, clearing the dishes and turning off the light, "You've done everything you can for now and the morning will come too soon as it is."

"Gonna make it worth my while, Mrs. Booth?" he pulled her close as she turned toward the steps.

"If you insist," she traced her fingers up his chest, stealing his breath away in the process.

He did. And she did. And eventually he fell back asleep.

Morning did come too soon, but was less chaotic than he'd thought it would be. They made it to Mass with enough time for Booth to issue a stern warning that good behavior was expected, as well as a reminder to Bones that _if_ she was going to come in, there would be zero talk about her Jesus-is-basically-a-Zombie theory. Four sets of eyes rolled in his direction but they all agreed, so they went in.

His silent prayers must've worked, because it was smooth sailing from then on out. The kids barely fidgeted and Bones managed to look interested, but solemn. As soon as they got to the SUV, of course, a mini wrestling match broke out between the boys and Sadie tripped getting in, resulting in scraped tights and a bleeding knee, but at least they'd gotten through the service.

The rest of the day was a flurry of activity while the older two prepared to go back to school. Last minute laundry was thrown in, room inspections were held, and there were some very watery eyes when Rebecca came to pick up Parker. There were tears the next day as they dropped Joey and Maddie off at their student houses and the three remaining Booths were somber on the drive home.

Tuesday dawned bright and early and life went back to what it had been for the past three years. Booth dropped Sadie off at pre-k and Bones off at the lab before heading into the Hoover. The first thing he did was check and see if Charlie had any leads on the phone call to Booth's cell. Unfortunately, it looked like the caller had known what he was doing and used an internet connection. The IT guys were looking into it, Charlie told him, but things weren't too promising.

Frustrated, he sat down at his desk and started sifting through the mound of paperwork that had accumulated over the holiday weekend. Thirty minutes into it, his cell rang.

"Booth," he answered, reaching for the next envelope in the stack.

"It's me," his mind registered Bones' voice, but his eyes were riveted to the envelope's contents, "I think I left my case files in the SUV. Would you bring them when you come for lunch?"

"I'm on my way," he managed to control his emotions as he double-checked that he had his keys and half-jogged toward the parking garage.

"No, Booth," she protested, "I don't need them right now."

"You're gonna want this right away," he assured her.

"Are we talking about the same thing?" she asked, confused, "Because what I'm referring to-"

"Temperance," he tried not to snap at her, throwing on the siren as he peeled out of the garage, "Someone just mailed me a bone."


	4. The Past in the Present

Chapter 4

"Distal phalanx," she ascertained, examining it between her own latex-covered fingers as Booth and Cam stood waiting for her results, "Most likely from the third phalange," she demonstrated which was the third one.

Booth quickly covered her hand with his, then released it and frowned, "Somebody's giving us the finger?"

"Or at least the tip of one yes," she nodded, "Though it would be pure conjecture to say whether or not any hidden meaning was implied. I can tell you that the bone wasn't fully formed."

"Meaning?" Booth's tone was somewhat impatient.

"Meaning whoever it came from, was most likely young," Cam answered.

"No more than ten," Brennan confirmed, maintaining her professional detachment.

"Hey, Brain Trust!" she grimaced as her husband shouted across the lab to Angela, Hodgins, and Wendell, "What've you got for me?"

Three heads snapped up from the monitor that they had been hunched over and to her immense relief they walked up to the platform before presenting their results.

"I'm running the particulates we found embedded in the bone through the mass spec," Hodgins offered, "And checking the envelope seal for DNA."

"And I'll find out how the bone was cleaned," Wendell said, donning gloves and accepting the phalanx as she passed it to him.

"Meanwhile," Angela maneuvered between Booth and Brennan to the computer, "I'm working on the note," she brought up an enlarged version of the note that had been sent to Booth, "The message- 'HELP ME'- is obvious, but I'm trying to track down which magazines each of those words might have come from. It helps that whoever sent it, cut out the entire word instead of going for individual letters. I should be able to reconstruct whatever is on the back of the cut-outs too."

"This is our top priority today, people," Cam spoke up, "Deputy Director Cullen was not happy about this and when he's grumpy he takes me down with him, so get to work."

Angela, Hodgins, and Wendell went in three separate directions, while Brennan peeled off her gloves and headed toward her office with Booth directly on her heels.

"Cullen might not be happy but I'm not exactly dancing for joy either," he complained, dropping himself onto the couch once they reached her office, "It's from _him_, Bones, I can feel it!"

"If by 'him' you mean the mysterious caller," she said, facing him but preferring to stand, "There's no evidence to support that at this time."

"Come on, Bones," his hands were waving wildly, displaying his agitation, "The caller said to 'check the mail,' the finger came in the mail, and it's from a kid- just like he was talking about; doesn't take a genius to connect the dots."

She scowled, "I'm not saying that it's not an implausible scenario, however, we don't have any _facts_-"

Her thought was cut off by the sound of Booth's phone. Their eyes met as it rang again. Slowly, he took out the phone, checked the caller ID, and met her eyes again, nodding his head gravely as he answered it.

"Agent Booth," the scrambled voice filled her office as Booth put it on speaker phone, "Did you check your mail this morning?"

"See," Booth mimed to her, then spoke aloud, "Yeah. Nice touch sending the middle one."

"Do I have your attention now?" the caller responded.

"Look, you sick bas-"

"Temper, temper, Agent Booth," the caller chided, "Or should I say, _Temperance_?" a pregnant pause hug in the air before he continued, "As I said before your wife knows what I mean."

"No I don't," she blurted out, earning a glare from Booth.

"Dr. Brennan," even through the scrambler's distortion it was clear the caller's tone had changed from scorn to respect, "I trust you are well?"

"Yes," she answered, unsure of what else to say and looking to her husband for support.

Booth shrugged as the voice continued, "You now have everything you need to bring about justice. I trust your findings will be published soon."

"I don't know what you mean," she was growing frustrated with the caller's vague references.

"Time is running out," the caller said, "Agent Booth?"

"Still here," Booth's voice was strangled with emotion.

"Think of me as the postman," the voice addressed him, "If I do ring again, you won't like it."

The line went dead.

A part of her mind registered the string of profanities emanating from her husband, but another part was searching for the memory that the caller's last words had evoked. Her legs felt weak underneath of her.

"You okay, Bones?" Booth was suddenly at her side, easing her onto the couch before she could collapse.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "Something he said triggered a memory in my subconscious but I am unable to pinpoint at this moment."

"Hey," he sat down beside her and gave a wry smile, "Don't think yourself to death, Bones, it'll come."

"Not to mention it is physically impossible to think oneself to death."

"That's my girl!" he clapped her on the back with a wide grin.

She rolled her eyes, then asked, "Why would we not like it if he called a third time."

"What?" Booth looked confused, then seemed to remember, "Oh, that. It's a movie reference, you know _The Postman Always Rings Twice_? Just means that if he has to call again, we've failed at whatever sick game he's playing."

"Then what happens?" she wondered out loud, her subconscious still screaming that she was missing something obvious.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Booth shrugged.

"I don't guess," she said, rising to her feet, "I gather facts. The caller said that we have all that we need to get justice, so I'm going to examine the evidence once more."

"Justice for who, though?" he asked, "And by the way, he didn't say that _we_ have all of the evidence, he said that _you_ did."

"Because it's in _my_ lab," she nodded.

"But it was sent to _my_ office," Booth pointed out, "So maybe the Postman was trying to tell us something."

"Of course!" she exclaimed, all of the pieces clicking together to form a singular memory.

Leaving a slack-jawed husband in her wake she breezed out of her office, intent on getting to her destination as quickly as possible. Behind her she could hear Booth calling to her to slow down, though she knew he would follow her either way so she saw no reason to.

"What're we doing in Limbo, Bones?" he asked as she tried to remember exactly which box she was looking for.

Closing her eyes, she held up a hand for him to be silent while she tried to recall the box number. It didn't take long and she strode purposefully down the correct aisle.

"These," she said, hefting the cumbersome box from its shelf, "Were sent to me by an individual who identified himself only as 'The Postman.'"

"They were?" he asked, taking the box from her as they moved toward one of the stainless steel exam tables, "Wait- when? Why didn't _I_ know about this?"

"I received one hundred and forty-six bones between May of 1998 to November of that same year," she explained, handing him the enclosed file before she donned a pair of gloves and laid the bones out on the table.

"Somebody mailed you bones for six months in a row and you didn't think that was worth mentioning to me?" he sounded offended, though she wasn't sure why.

"In _1998_," she repeated emphatically, "Long before we were partners. It's not as if I've given you a cumulative review of every single case that came to the Jeffersonian before your arrival, and quite some time has passed since then so it was not at the forefront of my mind."

"So that's what you were trying to remember?" he indicated the remains in front of them.

"Yes," she bobbed her head, "But I'm not certain how much it will help as the skeleton is not complete."

"That's weird," he commented, "Why go to all that trouble and not send all of it?"

"I don't know," she frowned, remembering that she didn't think much of it at the time.

"So is this guy missing his middle finger?" Booth asked.

"The guy is a girl," she pointed to the pelvic bone, "And the size of the phalanx is disproportionate to these remains. This girl was well into puberty, where the phalanx definitely belongs to a pre-adolescent."

"Still a young girl, though?" he pressed.

"Relatively, yes, though we won't know until the DNA results come back as to whether the phalanx belonged to a female or not," she warned.

"And you were never able to identify her?"

She thought the answer would have been obvious after all their years of working together, but apparently it was not, "No, Booth, without the skull identification is nearly impossible."

"Oh, yeah," he deflated like a balloon.

She went back to observing the bones to see if there was anything that could help link the two cases together.

"Hey wait," Booth snapped his fingers suddenly, "You said the guy who mailed you these called himself 'The Postman' so I wonder…" his voice trailed off as he searched through the file, "Bingo, baby! It says here that each of the packages came with a note, just like my finger did," he held up the plastic bag containing the letters, "Did Angela analyze these back in '98?"

She shook her head, "No, but we didn't have the imaging and scanning technology that we do now."

"Alright," she could see a plan forming in his mind by the look in his eyes, "You gather these up and take 'em to the platform and I'll get these notes to Angela so that she can compare them with the newest one. Maybe we'll get lucky and be able to make a connection."

The plan seemed reasonable so she began repacking the bones. Booth insisted on carrying the box when she was finished and she reluctantly agreed, taking the opportunity to peruse the file for herself. She had just swiped her card at the steps to the forensic platform when her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that breakfast had been several hours ago.

"We need fuel," Booth stated, setting the box down on one of the tables.

"For the SUV?" she guessed, confused.

He chuckled and she knew she had guessed incorrectly, "No, Bones, fuel for our bodies- you know, food?"

"We could get something from the cafeteria," she suggested, thinking that would be the quicker option rather than going out to the Diner or Wong Fu's.

"Ugh, no," he made a face, "I'm not up for mystery meat today. Besides, it's almost three already and we need to pick up Sadie."

"_I_ need to examine these remains," she insisted.

"They've been here over ten years, I think they'll keep for a few more hours," he pointed out, "Look, just come with me to pick Sadie up and eat and I promise I will bring you back here for as long as you need."

"Fine," she relented, knowing it was pointless to argue with him as her stomach let out another growl, "But be warned it could be a very late night."


	5. Daddy's Little Girl

**Sorry for the delay... I've been having problems getting any chapters(including ones from files that have converted before) to convert. Don't know why as I've never had that problem before. Hopefully I can figure it out before the last file in my Doc manager expires :P **

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Chapter 5

He was shocked that he'd managed to get her out of the lab without having to bodily remove her. From the time he'd gotten to there with the finger it had been "Booth" this or "Booth" that, meaning that she was in full professional mode; meaning that she was giving the case her full attention; meaning that she wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Except she had left and they were now on their way to pick up Sadie and grab some food.

Carefully, he pulled into the school parking lot, joining the growing line of other parents waiting to pick up their kids.

"Do you ever feel like we're picking up fast food when do this?" he asked.

"No," she answered, distractedly.

He put the car in "park" and let off of the brake as it looked like they wouldn't be moving any time soon, then continued his thought, "I mean, we get in line, wait for forever for the people in front of us to be done, then drive up, give them our name, and wait for them to bring her out to us."

"I fail to see the connection as there's no food involved," her face scrunched in confusion.

The line began to creep forward and he quickly shifted into "drive" and followed along. Four long minutes later they made it to the front of the line. Bones held up the sign with Sadie's name on it and they waited for her to come out. From where he was sitting he could see the teachers scurrying to round up the kids and get them out the door.

"It seems to be taking longer than usual," Bones observed, her keen eyes keeping a lookout for Sadie.

"I'm sure everything's okay," he said more for his own benefit than hers.

One of the teachers approached the SUV, so Booth rolled down Bones' window.

"We're looking for Sadie," the older woman smiled apologetically, "It seems she was separated from her class during the walk down to dismissal."

Every hair on Booth's body stood on end and he hopped out of the car. Ignoring both the teacher's and Bones' call to come back, he strode toward the entrance of the school. He flashed his badge at the teacher standing in the entryway, moving past her as quickly as he could.

"Sadie!" his voice boomed over the crowd of kids that were gathered in the gym for dismissal, "Sadie!"

He listened for a response, heard none, and began frantically scanning the gym for any sign of her, trying desperately to remember what she'd worn to school that morning. And her hair: was it in pigtails? A braid? Braided pigtails? The details kept slipping from him the harder he tried to remember.

After two minutes of calling for her and making his way completely around the gym it was clear that wherever she was, it wasn't in this room. Leaving the now-bewildered kids behind, he moved back out into the hall, but instead of going toward the entrance, he moved back toward the classrooms. Taking the short flight of steps two at a time, he once again started scanning the halls and open classrooms for his little girl.

"Sadie!" his voice echoed down the empty hall as he continued to move forward, trying hard not to give into his fear and dread, "SADIE!"

"Daddy!" Sadie squealed with delight, coming around the corner from where her classroom was and running toward him.

She was in his arms in an instant and he clutched her to his chest tightly, trying not to drop her as his legs started to buckle under him in relief. He managed to stay standing.

"Um, Daddy," came her muffled voice, "You're kinda squishing me."

"Sorry, kiddo," he grinned sheepishly, setting her down in front of him, but still keeping his hands around her shoulders, "Why weren't you in the gym with the other kids?"

"I forgot this," she held up a slightly crinkled piece of paper, "I made it 'specially for you, Daddy. So I went to my class to get it."

In wobbly crayon, there was a picture of a big person and a little person holding hands under a big rainbow, a green patch of color underneath their feet. The people were labeled "Sadie" and "Dad" and his heart melted.

"Sadie!" now it was Bones' voice that filled the hallway as she rushed toward them.

"Hi, Mommy," the little girl answered brightly, opening her arms for a hug, "I just had to get Daddy his special picture," she took the paper from his hands and held it out to Bones for her approval.

Dropping down to Sadie's level, Bones nodded, "That is a fairly accurate rendering, however, you should never return to your classroom unless you have your teacher's permission. We were very concerned when the teacher told us that they couldn't find you."

"Sorry, Mommy," Sadie hung her head.

"I forgive you," Bones spoke sincerely, "But I would appreciate it if you would remember the rules in the future," she reached out a hand, tenderly stroking Sadie's blond ringlets, "We love you very much and we wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

"I love you too," Sadie flung her arms around Bones' neck, then walked over and gave him a tight hug too, not objecting at all when he picked her up to carry her.

"Okay," he said, trying to lighten the mood, "Who's ready for food?"

"Me!" Sadie squealed right into his ear as they made for the entryway.

Profuse apologies were given and the principal assured them it would not happen again. By the time they reached the SUV, the line of parent traffic was gone and they were able to get going quickly. Sadie's chatter filled the car as she filled them in on her day, blissfully unaware of the unspoken feelings that were being exchanged between the couple in the front seat.

One soup and sandwich combo, a double cheeseburger, a PB&J, and one huge basket of fries later, they were done and on their way back to the Jeffersonian.

"I can hail a cab home after I'm done," Bones tried to persuade him when they reached her office, changing into her lab coat.

"Uh uh," Booth shook his head, leading her out of the office beyond Sadie's earshot, "After everything's that's happened today, neither one of you two is going anywhere alone. Besides, this is why we keep stuff for Sadie to play with here."

"Seeley Booth," her foot stomped and her eyes glared lasers into him, "I have-"

"Floated down the Amazon in the dead of night on a toothpick while Communists chased you, I get it, Bones," he waved off her argument, "And I get that you're capable of kicking bad guy butt when necessary, but I am not leaving no matter how good your argument is."

"Stubborn alpha-male," she muttered darkly.

"And proud of it," he grinned, pulling her close for a hug.

"Me too! Me too!" Sadie chimed, dashing out of the office and inserting herself in the middle of the hug.

"Alright, Sadie-girl," he pulled back, steering his daughter by the shoulders, "Time to let Mom get to work. Why don't you go get a game for us to play?"

"Okay. Bye, Mommy," Sadie waved, skipping back into the office.

"Bye, Bones," he stole a quick kiss and turned to follow their daughter.

"For the record," she spoke and he whirled around, "I've never boated down the Amazon."


	6. She Works Hard For Her Money

**Doc Manager likes me again :) Happy Labor Day!**

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Chapter 6

The lab was buzzing with activity as she swiped her security card and ascended the steps to the forensic platform. Grad students requiring her authorization for one thing or another hovered like gnats until they obtained her signature. It took her five minutes to traverse the platform to where she had left the box of bones from Limbo and she sighed with relief as the last paper was signed.

Stepping up to the stainless steel table she put on her gloves and began carefully transferring the bones from the box. Slowly, the skeleton began to take shape in front of her. When the one hundred and forty-sixth bone was placed on the table, she began her initial overview from the bottom of the skeleton up, noting as she went which bones were present and which were not.

The most frustrating aspect of the entire process was the fact that there were sixty bones unaccounted for. With so many bones missing it would be very difficult to ascertain how the victim had died, even with Brennan's detailed analysis. Without the skull, as she had told Booth earlier, identification was virtually impossible. Still, she gave the bones present her full energies in hopes that they would divulge some useful information.

When she was satisfied that she had gleaned every iota of data from the bones, she stretched long enough to ease the discomfort in her back from hunching over the table and moved to sit down at a nearby desk. It was only when she looked around for the original file that she became aware of how empty the lab had become. The clock on the desk informed her that it was almost ten.

Weighing her options, she determined that the rest of her work could be completed at home. Leaving the bones where they lay on the table, she gathered her notes, along with the original file, and left the forensic platform for her office.

Like a landing beacon guiding her in, the glow of her office's computer monitor lit up the darkened walkway, and she was unsurprised to find her husband sitting at her desk, watching a streaming broadcast of the Flyer's hockey game.

"I'm fairly sure that's not what this high-speed connection was meant for," she came up behind him and whispered in his ear, taking great delight at the startled jump that ensued.

"Geez, Bones," he whispered loudly, "A little warning?"

She grinned slyly in response and muttered, "Sniper-trained reflexes indeed."

He responded by reaching out suddenly and pulling her into the chair with him, so that she was now seated most unceremoniously on his lap. For a moment, she thought about resisting, but it was late and she had been on her feet for the better part of five hours, so she relaxed into him, enjoying the comfort of his close proximity.

"You should've taken her home," she reproved softly, gesturing toward the couch where Sadie slept peacefully.

"She wanted to stay," he shrugged, "And it's not like she hasn't done this plenty of times before. Besides, Angela set up a video conference between us and Maddie and Joey, so they were all thrilled."

It was true, she realized as Seeley went back to watching the game. In the last three years, Sadie had probably fallen asleep on the office couch just as much as she had on her bed at home, and it never seemed to bother her. In fact, the couple had found that they had more trouble getting Sadie to sleep when her Mommy wasn't home, than when they were at the "Jeffers." Odd as the dynamic seemed to some, it worked well for the three of them and no one at the Jeffersonian had complained.

"May we go home now, Seeley?" she asked as the game came to a close.

"What if I say no?" he teased, still refusing to release her from his lap.

Not even bothering to justify his question with a response, she tickled the inside of his thigh with her fingers, causing him to instantly let go. Freed, she sprung off of his lap and moved away quickly before he could get a hold of her again, leaving him to turn off the computer. Methodically, she began collecting and packing the files that she needed to take home.

"Here's the stuff that came in while you were away," he motioned to a stack of papers just as large as the one she had just placed in her bag, "I swear you need a small suitcase to lug these things some days."

She nodded, knowing that he was correct, though she had long ago come to terms with the fact that her job required voluminous amounts of paperwork. Together, they stashed the remaining papers into her shoulder bag, before moving to clean up the rest of the room. Coloring books, flashcards, and board games were returned to their designated shelf, along with the small collection of graphic novels that Seeley kept on hand. Sadie's collection of miniature ponies, as well as her baby dolls, and stuffed animals went into her "High School Musical" backpack.

While Temperance shouldered the bags, Seeley gently scooped the sleeping little girl into his arms, so as not to wake her. Sadie stirred slightly as they buckled her into her booster seat, but was fast asleep again as soon as the SUV started moving. Fortunately, traffic going out of the city had thinned and they made it home in reasonably good time.

A light rain began just as they pulled into the driveway.

"This," Seeley said as they got out, "Is why we needed a nice garage."

"Liar," she shook her head, "You just wanted a large space to re-construct old cars."

"Classics," he corrected, "And I restore them."

"So you say," she cocked an eyebrow at the gutted car that had occupied the garage since just after they had moved in, "Though I still am unsure as to why you would want a car named after a farm animal."

Seeley's eyes rolled, "Bones, for the millionth time, just because it's _called_ a goat, doesn't mean it has anything to do with the animal."

"Then why call it that?" she'd never understood the logic no matter how many times he'd tried to explain it.

"It's a GTO, and a '69 at that," he informed her, "Do you know how many guys would _kill _for this car?"

"People will kill for anything, Seeley, our line of work is enough to prove that," she eyed the car once more.

"Indeed they will, Temperance," he placed a patronizing kiss on her forehead, "And if you're a good forensic anthropologist and don't insult her too much, I just _might_ let you drive her when she's done."

She opened her mouth to question why he would assign the female gender to a car, but he had opened the SUV's side door to extract Sadie. Shaking her head, she collected their bags and followed him inside. Sadie had gotten into her pajamas at the lab, and after a mumbled "Good night," to each of her parents, quickly fell back asleep in her bed.

Parental duties complete, Temperance retreated temporarily to the master bathroom for a hot shower, after which she emerged refreshed and dressed in her soft yoga pants and one of Seeley's old Army t-shirts. Her stomach growled as she descended the stairs, reminding her that their late lunch had been some time ago.

"One world famous Seeley Booth omelet comin' up," her husband greeted her as she entered the kitchen.

She sat on one of the stools at the kitchen's island, sipping the freshly brewed coffee that he had prepared for her as she constructed a mental checklist of things yet to be done.

"Item number one on whatever agenda you're plotting," Seeley's teasing voice cut into her thoughts as a plate materialized in front of her, "Is eating."

She threw him a mock salute, using her fork to cut through the fluffy yellow mass. As her tongue closed around the first, sumptuous bite, she decided she had no objections to putting her work off just a little while longer.


	7. All the Small Things

Chapter 7: All the Small Things

Booth couldn't help but stare as his wife began eating, not sure if he was more envious of the fork wrapped around her lips or his old Army shirt clinging to her damp frame. The fact that she had clearly chosen not to put her bra back on was also distracting and it was a minor miracle that his omelet survived unscathed.

"Do I have something stuck in my teeth?" she paused between bites to look up at him.

"No," he shook his head to clear it, thankful at least that his voice didn't crack on him.

"You're staring at me," she started to point out, then her expression morphed into a smirk, and she lowered her voice to a husky timber, "Oh, I see."

And it appeared that she did. The next several minutes were pure torture as she finished her omelet with slow, deliberate bites intended to drive him crazy, each bite ending with her licking her lips and winking at him. On the last bite, she took the fork into her mouth, sucking it with her eyes closed, and groaning as she swallowed.

"Was it good for you too?" she whispered in his ear as she moved to the sink with her now-empty plate.

In one smooth motion, he took the plate out of her hand and spun her around to face him, pressing her up against the island in the process. With nothing more than a feral growl, he closed the distance between them and attacked her lips. His breath hitched in his throat as she matched the kiss with her own fervor and pushed herself against him.

His hands spanned her waist and lifted her onto the counter and she wrapped her legs around him, trapping him against her. All of the fear he'd felt that afternoon for her and for Sadie was poured into the kiss, and she responded by both exciting and soothing him in the same breath.

"That," he breathed into her ear when they came up for air a few minutes later, "Was good."

She smiled in reply, running her fingers through his hair.

"Ready to go back to the case?" he asked, offering a hand to help her down.

She shot him a surprised look, but took his hand and nodded, a competitive and deeply fierce gleam coming to her eyes as she turned toward the living room. He refilled both coffee mugs and followed her in, not surprised to see she had her bag half-emptied on the coffee table already.

"So," he said, taking a few files in hand, "These came in while you were busy squinting at your old bones, Bones."

She scowled and tried to swipe them from him but he wagged a finger, "Uh, uh, uh, what's the magic word?"

"Seeley," she rolled her eyes.

He made a buzzer sound effect and shook his head, "Wrong! Now, this one came from Angela," he ignored her attempts to grab the file, "She said that all of the notes definitely came from the same person and she's sending the whole lot to my handwriting analysts for the postman signature. The magazine pictures are going to take a little longer to render and she'll get back to you tomorrow with the results."

Passing that file to her, he held up the next one in the stack, "This is from Hodgins. He ran every fancy test in the book on the envelope that was sent to the Hoover and found zilch. No fingerprints or microscopic grit or anything and he's pretty sure the DNA result will come back negative too. He said he'd take a second look at the older envelopes and see if he missed anything the first time around."

"You realize," she said dryly as he passed her the second file, "That I am fully capable of reading these myself?"

"Hey," he pointed his finger, "_your_ Squint Squad was the one treating me like I'm your personal secretary or something, so _you_ get the verbal briefing."

"How is it that when they perform well, they are _your_ Squint Squad, but when they get on your nerves they are mine?" she asked.

"Okay, so we have joint custody," he teased, "But, you know, their constant interruptions threw me off my game," he put on a sad puppy dog face.

She laughed, shaking her head, "How exactly does one's 'game' get thrown 'off' when one is playing Go Fish and Candyland?"

"Sadie's vicious," he told her, "Looks for any advantage and pounces on it. Gets that from her mother."

"Her mother is going to make her father sleep on the couch tonight if you don't give me that file," she made a grab for the next file on his lap.

He snatched up the folder so that her hand landed on his midsection instead.

"Now, Bones," he chided, patting her on the head and removing her hand from his crotch, "That's not a very professional place to have your hand while we're trying to work a case," he ignored the glare that ensued, "Meanwhile, Wendell here says that it looks like whoever cleaned the finger knew what they were doing. No chemicals were used, fortunately, and he made a bone slide for you and sent a sample to Cam for DNA."

He let her snatch the file from him, before moving to the small stack of messages he'd taken for her.

"Speaking of Cam, she stopped by to remind you that the donors' benefit is coming up two weeks from Saturday," he made a face at the prospect of a boring evening in uncomfortable clothes, "and apparently we're in charge of donuts for the morning meeting tomorrow. Bones, did you hear what I said?"

"Donor benefit and donuts," she muttered, her head stuck in the file from Wendell, "Are you going to fabricate evidence for Hodgins to analyze that night?"

"If I have to," he shrugged.

"I don't understand why you feel you need to in the first place," she commented.

"He doesn't like his wealth being flaunted in his face, you know that."

"We're wealthy and you don't fabricate an excuse for us not to be there," she argued.

"Don't think I haven't thought about it," he gave her a lopsided grin, "Speaking of money, though, Jaina called at least four times," Bones' head shot up at the mention of her publicist so he continued, "Says you need to approve the proofs for the cover art and Fed Ex them back to her," he handed over the folder that had been shipped by private courier, "Also, you keep dodging her about the press junket dates and she's getting itchy. Took me ten minutes to talk her down from the ledge and she only stopped calling after I swore that I would get an answer out of you tonight."

Bones let out an irritated sigh and sifted through the proofs, initialing them as she went along, "The dates that she gave me coincide with when we need to pick up Maddie and Joey. I presume she also wanted to remind me about the photo shoot at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning?"

"Wear something blue and don't forget your lab coat," he repeated the publicist's instructions, "So if those dates won't work, what will? 'Cause she _is_ right that you're cutting this close."

"We have a _case_, Booth," she huffed and he could almost see the smoke coming out of her nostrils as they flared, "One involving young girls. So pardon me if I find the marketing strategies for my upcoming book a bit frivolous right now."

"Whoa there, Bones, calm down," he set aside her messages and faced her full on, "Number one, you and I are on the same team, okay? I get that this case is important and I want to stop this guy as much as you."

"I'm sensing a caveat," she frowned.

"We just finished establishing that we've got an entire Squint Squad at out command," he said easily, "So let's go to Cam's meeting and assign them the legwork tomorrow, freeing you to get the photo shoot out of the way," he held up a hand as she started to protest again. "And we need to figure out a day that _will_ work for the press junket; preferably by the time we go to the photo shoot so that Jaina doesn't blow a fuse."

"Fine," he could tell she wasn't pouting, just irritated that her 'side business' was interfering with her real job.

For the next hour they worked side by side, but in almost total silence while she looked for the means behind the murder and he started searching for motive. Eventually, he'd pass the file on to Sweets, but he wanted to get a feel for everything before he did that. This guy had to older given the age of the first bones he'd sent to the Jeffersonian and Booth wondered if the perv was getting close to the end of his rope and wanted to die with a clean conscience.

"The one thing that doesn't add up," he said as they got ready for bed, "is why he would expect us to miraculously crack this case when he never sent you all of the bones; not to mention why he'd send an entirely different finger instead of sending the finger missing on the older skel."

"Distal phalanx," she corrected, yawning as she turned out the light and settled into his arms, "But you're right, it does seem as if he is operating off of the assumption that we have at least one complete skeleton, if not two since he did say 'girls'- plural- in your first conversation."

"That's it!" all of a sudden a missing piece clicked into place for him.

"That's what?"

"What if he _did_ send both skels and they somehow got misplaced?" he was theorizing out loud, "I mean, it would make sense then, right? The assumptions and impatience, plus the fact that he thought that _you_ knew what he was talking about the whole time- it all tracks if you go on the assumption that he thought we had what we needed this whole time."

"But why or how would the bones be misplaced?" she asked, "It's not as if I've moved in the interim."

"That'll be my first question for the Jeffersonian mailroom guys," he assured her.

"_After_ the photo shoot," she said pointedly.

"Don't worry, Bones, I wasn't gonna leave you out of this one," he chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

"Of course not," she scoffed, as if the idea was foreign, "It's just that the last time Jaina and I talked she thought it would be good to include you in some of the promotional material as well this time."

He groaned.

"Don't forget to wear blue," she laughed, "and bring your badge."

Oh, he'd bring his badge alright, he thought as he drifted off to sleep, but he'd also bring his gun.


	8. Just Shoot Me

Chapter 8: Just Shoot Me

She had been waiting for it to happen ever since they'd arrived and had to compose herself when it finally did before going to investigate.

"Bones!" Seeley bellowed a second time from the chair that the photo shoot people had directed him to.

"I'm right here," she attempted to make her voice neutral and soothing.

"Makeup?" he whined, "Really?"

"Really," she assured him, "You'll look flushed out otherwise."

"FBI guys don't do makeup," he protested, "This could kill my tough guy image if it got out."

"You're being melodramatic," she rolled her eyes, "All men- from Hollywood actors to TV weathermen- wear makeup when they're in front of the camera."

He grumbled under his breath some more but finally relented, freeing her to go back and have her own makeup touched up. To be fair, she thought as one attendant fixed her hair while the other worked on her face, Seeley had patiently endured her part of the photo shoot, which had lasted the better part of two hours, and, up until this point, had not threatened to shoot anyone with his gun. At one point she had noticed him casually flash his gun to one of the young men on set whose eyes had lingered on her for a few minutes too long.

Just before they stepped onto the set, Seeley's phone began emitting music at a rather loud volume. He came to a halt and stood completely at attention as he answered it.

"Hello, Sir," his reply was crisp, "Yes, Sir, that's right," a pause, "Of course not, Sir, that would be foolish," his head was bobbing up and down with each response, "I'll put her on the line right away."

Seeley walked over to Jaina and handed her his phone, a sympathetic look on his face, then stepped back to give her some privacy.

"Who is that?" Temperance kept her voice low as she approached him.

"Deputy Director Mitchell," he answered with a glance over at the young publicist, who had paled considerably.

"Kirby's replacement?" she asked, fairly sure that she was correct.

"Yup," Seeley unconsciously straightened his tie as if the man were in the room with them, "Turns out the FBI isn't too keen on having my face plastered everywhere."

"We've been covered by the press in the past," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but the last time we let the press do a big workup on us, we had a bleeding heart sent to us, plus there was that head full of poison, not to mention Zack and I nearly got blown to kingdom come," he shook his head," with this Postman guy still on the loose, we don't want to draw any unnecessary attention."

"Oh," she silenced, recalling the events that had transpired around the Epps case with chilling clarity.

Doing a quick mental inventory, she realized that while she herself had been featured in innumerable articles since the inception of her career as a novelist, Seeley had not. There had been a small stir when the couple had first married, but the reporters with whom she'd dealt over the years seemed to respect her desire to keep her personal life private. Jaina had thought to include Seeley in part of the ad campaign this time to coincide with the long-awaited marriage of Kathy Reichs and Andy Lister in Dr. Brennan's latest book; however, it now looked as if those plans would have to be quickly altered.

"Okay guys, that's a wrap for today," a visibly shaken Jaina informed the camera crew before turning back to the Booths, "Temperance, I'll get back to you if we need you for anything else," she handed Seeley's phone back to him, "Appropriate ring tone- that guy's pretty scary."

Seeley flashed her an understanding smile, "Yeah, fortunately I don't hear from him all that often."

Jaina gave a weak smile of her own and bid the couple good bye.

"Time to get this crap off my face," Seeley announced with relief.

Anticipating that he would be eager to rid himself of the makeup, Temperance withdrew the small bottle of facial cleanser that she had brought from home, shaking her head ruefully as he all but ran to the nearest restroom. Several minutes later he emerged and they left for the diner.

"What ring tone do you have?" she asked as they shared a basket of fries while waiting for lunch to arrive.

"Huh?" he asked.

"The ring tone you assigned to Deputy Director Mitchell," she expounded, "I recognized the music, but cannot recall what song it is."

"Oh, that," he chuckled, dipping his head as if slightly embarrassed, "That's the 'Imperial March,' you know, Darth Vader's theme song."

"Clever," she smiled, "Is that because he intimidates you."

"What? No!" his denial was vehement, "It's just a joke, Bones- and a way for me to know who's calling."

"Seeley, the timbre of your voice changed, you suddenly adapted good posture, and you tightened and loosened your tie no less than five times during and after the call: you were intimidated," she observed.

"I was respectful," he countered, "Nothing wrong with that."

"Impossible," she muttered, shaking her head.

The argument was cut short with the arrival of their lunch. As it was past two o'clock and Jaina had provided them with a meager fruit tray during the photo shoot, they began eating right away and fell into a companionable silence.

"Hey Bones, don't forget I have a hockey game tonight at seven," Seeley broke the silence mid-way through his hamburger, "So I'll need to leave by five to eat and get ready."

"I remembered," she informed him, "This is a semi-final game, correct?"

He rewarded her with a grin that lit up face, boasting with pride, "Yep. We win tonight and we play the CIA for the championship next weekend."

"Is the CIA team the one that defeated you so badly earlier in the year?" she asked.

"Yeah," he waved a hand dismissively, "but our goalie was on an undercover op, plus it was only the second game of the season. We're ready for 'em now, though," he rubbed his hands together.

"Somehow, I think we've both contributed to Sadie's fiercely competitive outlook," she told him.

"Maybe," he shrugged, wiping his mouth with the end of his rather flamboyant tie.

"Stop that!" she ordered, snatching the tie from his hands despite the fact that he still had it around his neck, "Do you realize how disgusting that is? They provide us with paper napkins for a reason," she waved one in front of him.

"Then I get little pieces of paper stuck on my mouth," he complained, reclaiming his tie and pulling well out of her reach as he pushed his seat back and stood up to leave, "Besides, you can't even see that anything's on there."

"_I_ can tell," she said as they left.

He ignored her as they got in the SUV and drove to the Jeffersonian, so she began going through her files.

"Um, Bones," he got her attention as they drew nearer, "Where exactly _is_ the mailroom for the Jeffersonian?"

"Building E," she pointed, "Just beyond the Medico-Legal lab."

"Pretty big building," he commented as it came into view.

"I should think so given the volume of mail that's handled daily," she nodded, "Though Ernie runs a tight boat."

"Ship, Bones, a tight ship," Seeley corrected, "And who the hell is Ernie?"

"Ernie Polk," she answered, "And ships and boats are synonymous so I don't see where I was wrong."

"It's the phrase- look, you know what? It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't?"

"Nope, because we're here," he pulled into a space, "Now, just let me ask the questions, Bones, okay?"

"But-"

"Just trust me on this."

"But, Booth-"

"Bones, I know what I'm doing."

"I know that," she rolled her eyes, hurrying to match his long strides as he walked quickly toward the building.

"Good," he grinned, then stopped and frowned, "If you knew that, then why interrupt me?"

"You left the lights on," she motioned back to the SUV.

With a muted curse, Seeley jogged back and turned off the lights.

"Can we go in now?" he was irritated, "Or is there something else you need to tell me _before_ we go inside?"

"No, there's nothing," she said patiently, "and there's no reason to get snarky about things."

"Snarky?" he shook his head and walked on, "You know 'snarky' but you didn't know the Imperial March?"

"I told you I recalled the tune, though not the title," she crossed her arms as they stopped just outside the door, "And I _did _try_ to _warn you about the lights before we got too far away, but you kept interrupting me."

They glared at each other for a long moment, drawing curious looks as people went in and out of the building around them. Finally, his posture relaxed.

"Sorry," he said softly, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand.

She nodded her forgiveness.

He gave her hand a quick kiss before releasing it, whispering, "Time to go postal."


	9. You've Got Mail

Chapter 9: You've Got Mail

Apparently, getting bones through the mail was an everyday occurrence for Ernie, who was trying hard to hide a grin when Booth asked if he remembered processing the bones back in '98.

"Son, I've processed enough bones to build my own army of the dead if I wanted to," the older man leaned back in his office chair.

"While it is scientifically impossible to reanimate dead human beings," Bones put in, not noticing the amused smile that passed between the two men, "Ernie is correct that the Jeffersonian receives thousands of bones every year through the postal system."

"We didn't start keeping computer records until 2000," Ernie offered, "Though you're welcome to look through the physical files too for your '98 shipments."

"How does the delivery system work around here?" Booth asked.

"Well," Ernie sat up a little straighter, "You _could_ think of us as one giant spam filter. The DC post office forwards everything here then we scan it, sort it, and distribute it to the proper parties. Anything that's deemed junk mail or a security threat is held back. Before 9/11, though, policy was a lot more lax."

"How so?" Bones beat her partner to the punch.

"Well Dr. Brennan," Ernie scratched his chin, "since 9/11, our standards for what is or is not deemed a security threat has been made a lot stricter. So what may have gotten to you before, wouldn't now. Not to mention the situations arising during the Epps and Gormagon incidents, have had their effect on our policies too. Every piece of mail- no matter what it contains- that doesn't have a return address is considered a threat and won't be delivered past this point."

"Where does it go if it doesn't get delivered?" Booth leaned forward in his seat.

"Deep storage," the postmaster pointed down, "If it didn't get delivered, it's either down in the basement or over at the warehouse."

"Warehouse?" Bones sounded surprised, "I'm not familiar with it."

"That's 'cause it's underground," Ernie grinned, reaching for the phone on his desk, "I'll call down if you're interested."

Booth was definitely interested and his gut was telling him that this could be where the missing bones had ended up, though something was still nagging at him.

"Why would only some of the bones be delivered to Dr. Brennan?" he questioned when Ernie hung up the phone.

"Policy changes all of the time, Agent Booth," Ernie said, "Or there could've been a hold put on her mail during that time and the anonymous packages just weren't sent up with the rest when delivery resumed."

"I was in Guatemala for a month that December," Bones spoke up.

"That would do it," Ernie nodded. He turned to one of the large filing cabinets behind him and pulled out a thick folder, handing it to Booth, "Here's the mail we inventoried from November to the end of December in 1998. If your bones came through here, it'll be in there."

"Thanks for your help," Booth accepted the file, shaking the man's hand as he stood to his feet.

The older man smiled and nodded, "Glad to. Wilkins from Deep Storage will meet you at the elevators in the lobby."

Booth checked his watch on the way to the lobby. They still had an hour before one of them needed to pick up Sadie from school. Meanwhile, Bones was on her phone checking with everyone at the lab.

"Angela's getting closer to determining which magazines the words that were on your note came from," she filled him in as she hung up, "and the computer is now rendering the older notes as well. She also offered to pick Sadie up for us, though I told her I would need to consult with you first."

"Not like she hasn't done it plenty of times before," he shrugged.

"I wasn't certain given the current case," her voice held a well-hidden note of concern.

Booth let out a long breath as they reached the lobby, "This could be the opening we need to bust this guy, so it'd be good if we didn't have a time limit. Just call the school and let them know Angela will be picking her up and have them check for ID before they release her. And tell Angela to call you as soon as they're back at the lab."

Bones nodded and moved to a deserted corner of the lobby to make the call while Booth looked around for Wilkins. He spotted the guy's nametag almost right away. Thin and about three inches taller than Booth, Wilkins' pale skin made him look like someone who spent a lot of time underground. Booth walked up and introduced himself and the two stood in awkward silence as they waited for Bones to finish her call.

"Might as well turn that off," Wilkins' nasally voice suggested when Bones joined them, "No one gets reception where we're going."

Without another word, he summoned the elevator they were standing next to and without a backwards glance, stepped in. As the doors closed, Wilkins swiped a card through the reader, punched a password into the wall-mounted keypad, and hit the button marked "D.S." before leaning against the wall.

The car gave a jolt that made Booth's stomach lurch as the elevator began hurtling downwards through the shaft. Booth wondered how far down they were going, but their guide had closed his eyes so he decided not to push it.

"Welcome to the warehouse," Wilkins intoned several minutes later when they finally hit bottom, "home to all sorts of dangerous crap. Don't touch anything."

He led them down a long walkway lined on either side by rooms overflowing with unopened mail. The room he unlocked for them was no different than the other ones and was marked "1998-2000" on the door plate. Inside, Booth guessed that the room was about five hundred square feet, with dividers that separated one year's mail from the next. At points there were stacks of packages that were almost as tall as Wilkins and a musty smell permeated the air despite the small air vent in ceiling.

"You may open your own mail at your own risk," Wilkins instructed as if he'd said the same thing far too many times in the past, "Opening another person's mail is a federal offence and violators _will_ be prosecuted. When you are ready to leave, use the intercom to summon me."

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, closing the door behind him.

"Cheery guy," Booth said dryly, turning to Bones, "Where do you want to start?"

Without replying at first, she produced two pairs of latex gloves from her pocket, handing him the larger pair before donning her own.

"It appears that these have been alphabetized within each year that they were delivered," she said, poking around, "These larger boxes contain loose mail, while the packages are stacked separately."

"Good thing your name's not Zimmerman," he cracked, "We'd be here forever."

She arched an eyebrow at him, "I suspect we'll be here long enough as it is."

Booth nodded with a grimace and started lifting boxes in the '98 section, while Bones moved over to the packages. A brief glance inside one of the boxes told him that most of the stuff was just junk mail that the mailroom had decided wasn't worth the addressee's time and he remembered Ernie's comment about the place being a big spam filter. Fortunately, it only took looking in the top of each box to see where he was at in the alphabet, though he never would have thought there'd be so much to go through.

He was about fifteen boxes in when he finally hit the "B" boxes, and another three before the names started with "Br."

"Paydirt!" he exclaimed, pulling one of the boxes clear of the rest, "Hey. Bones, I found your mail."

She materialized from behind a stack of packages, pushing the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face. As she sat down on the floor and began sifting through the box's contents, he grabbed the next box in the stack.

"This one's got your stuff in it too," he said, bringing it over and sitting down next to her, "and these postmarks start in July instead of January." He laughed, holding up an envelope, "Hey look, Bones, you might be a Publisher's Clearinghouse winner."

"I doubt that," she smiled.

Booth rooted around a little deeper in his box, searching for anything that looked like the manila envelope he'd been sent. His hand froze, heart skipping a beat as his hand closed around an envelope containing something a lot firmer than paper.

"Bones," he breathed, recognizing the packaging instantly.

"Yes?" beside him, her head shot up as she peered at what he'd unearthed.

"No," he shook his head, "not you. Well, I mean, you'll want to look at them, I'm sure, but-"

He stopped talking and just handed her the package.

"Oh," she suddenly understood, taking it and carefully unsealing the flap, "more bones."

Five smaller bones that looked a lot like the one he'd been sent fell into her gloved palm and the sinking feeling in his gut intensified.

"Human?" he asked, though he could pretty much tell from the look on her face.

"Yes," she said, "and they are consistent with the size and type of the bones missing from the first set of remains."

"Sent in December," he pointed to the envelope, "Must've come while you were gone."

She nodded silently, holding each bone up to the dim light for a better look. He turned back to his box, taking handfuls of junk mail out as he scanned for more manila envelopes at the bottom.

"Check this out," he handed her a card-sized envelope with the same typed font as the manila one.

Again, she carefully unsealed the envelope and eased the contents out. It was a Christmas card, complete with a jolly-looking Santa Claus on the front.

"'More will come,'" Bones read the inside portion aloud.

Booth swore under his breath and leapt to his feet, closing the gap between the boxes and the intercom quickly.

"What are you doing?" Bones asked as his paged Wilkins.

"Time for backup, Bones," he said quickly, turning back as Wilkins' bored voice came over the speaker, "Hey, you got a landline in your office?"

"Yup," came the reply.

"We're gonna need it."


	10. Precious

**You're going to want to listen to the Depeche Mode song of the same title while you read.**

**Gum**

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Chapter 10: Precious

It would eventually take twelve techs, spread out over four rooms, a total of eight hours to sift through all of the loose mail and the packages in the warehouse from 1998 to the present. Cullen and Cam arrived halfway into the retrieval process and ordered their star crime-fighting duo to go home and rest so that they would be fresh the next day when the real work would begin. Cam, flanked by Clark, Wendell, and Fischer, assured Dr. Brennan that they would oversee the rest of the job and Cullen threatened to take away Booth's gun for a month if his took so much as one page of the case file home with him.

To Temperance's surprise, they met Dr. Goodman on their way out as he was coming in to meet with Ernie. Apparently the mailroom's policies were about to change yet again.

"I still don't like having to leave," she informed Seeley as they drove the short distance to the lab to pick up Sadie, "It's only eight o'clock; that's hardly late."

"Bones, we came in at seven," he reminded her.

"Perhaps," she agreed, "for the morning meeting, but then we were gone a good portion of the later morning and early afternoon at the photo shoot. I'm still quite fresh."

"I'm not worn out either, Bones," he sounded sympathetic, "but who knows how much longer this could take and Cam's right that we're going to have plenty of work on our hands until we get everything sorted out."

"I suppose," she closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest, her mind still trying to fathom the number of bones that had been down in the mailroom's deep storage warehouse.

"How many bodies do you think they've found so far?" he asked.

"It would be difficult to tell at this juncture," she shook her head without opening her eyes, "At last count, there were eight hundred and seventy-three bones."

"So at least four bodies?" he asked, dividing by two hundred and six.

"Possibly," she said hesitantly, "Though we won't know for certain until the bones can be properly laid out and inspected."

"Sounds like a big job," he said, coming to a stop in front of the lab building.

She could feel his eyes on her without looking, his thumb gently caressing her cheek as he spoke softly, "Look, you stay here and I'll go grab Sadie and we can go home."

Still somewhat overwhelmed by the enormity of the task in front of them, she nodded without contest, smiling softly as his lips grazed against hers. She heard the SUV door slam shut and could picture in her mind him jogging up the steps and into the building. Again, she attempted to relax.

Instead, her mind whirred, making lists of all of the tasks that needed to be accomplished. What she hadn't mentioned to Seeley since she was not one hundred percent certain was that it appeared that the Postman, whoever he or she was, had been mailing her remains at a rate of one skeleton per year since 1998. She had given clear instructions to the recovery team that the bones should be placed in storage containers according to the year's mail that they had been recovered from, making it easier to test her theory once the containers were brought to the lab. Eleven years had transpired since '98 and it was highly probable that at least ten, if not eleven, sets of remains would be waiting for her when she came in tomorrow morning.

Fatigue washed over her and she was pleased to hear the back door open behind her, now more ready for sleep than she had initially thought she would be.

A strong pair of arms came around, pinning her to the seat. Straining, she failed to sit up and a hand clamped over her mouth, precluding a cry for help. It was the last thing she felt before unconsciousness claimed her.

B&B&B&B&B&B&B

Booth took one last look at Bones, who looked like she was more tired than she was letting on, and set off at a jog for the lab, taking the large flight of steps two at a time. Chris, one of the long-time security guards, recognized him and buzzed him in automatically.

"You and the doc sure stirred up the hornet's nest tonight," the guard grinned teasingly.

"It's what we live for," Booth smiled back, "Wouldn't want you rent-a-cops to get bored."

"I'll take you any day, Ranger," the former Marine challenged good-naturedly.

Booth tossed a salute at him and moved on toward the lab. The closer he got, the more he realized Chris hadn't been joking. Organized chaos was being personified as squints and squinters alike handled the steady influx of bones coming from the warehouse. While Hodgins directed the flow of traffic in and out of the lab, Angela was helping to prep for the bones still to come. The platform looked like a sardine can full of stainless steel and more tables were being set up on the floor.

Upstairs, he found Max in Angela's office playing Mr. Wizard to Sadie and the two Hodgins kids, keeping them distracted from what was going on down below.

"Where's Tempe?" Max wanted to know.

"Car," Booth answered shortly. He was rewarded with a very Bones-like eyebrow arch and he cracked a smile at the older man, "She's exhausted and letting her in would be like giving Sudafed to a meth addict."

"Not to mention Cam and Cullen kicked you out," Angela said from the doorway, "She's kicking us out too, though."

Booth gave the artist a small smile, shouldering Sadie's backpack, "Come on, girlie, let's get you and Mommy home."

The little girl didn't look like she wanted to leave, and dragged her feet until Max offered to give her a piggy-back ride to the parking lot. The trio gathered up the rest of Sadie's stuff from Bones' office before heading downstairs.

"Wow, Daddy," Sadie said from her perch on Max's back, "That's a lot of bones."

"Sure is, kiddo."

"Do you think Mommy can put them all back together again?" Sadie asked as they walked.

"Oh yeah," he said confidently, "Your mom's real good at putting bone puzzles back together again."

"Are we going to the game now?" she wondered next.

Max and Booth exchanged looks, both knowing how much Sadie had been looking forward to cheering Booth on.

"Um, the game already started, Sweetheart," Booth said finally, "But we can go to the next one."

"But, Daddy," the little girl protested as the cool night air greeted them, "you said you only get to play next time if you win tonight and you and Mr. Wendell are here now, so how can you win if you're not there?"

"They'll manage," he grinned.

"Oh," she quieted for a minute before asking, "Will Parker come with us next time too?"

Booth came to a halt at the bottom of the steps, swallowed a curse, and pulled out his phone. Sure enough, there were several messages, no doubt from an angry Rebecca wanting to know why he hadn't picked Parker up yet. He hit speed dial and braced himself.

"Hey, Becca," he said easily when she picked up.

Max shot him a sympathetic look as Rebecca's angry voice filled the still night air. He held the phone away from his ear until she'd vented, then explained what was going on and why he hadn't called until now. Apparently, she didn't blame him too much, because she let Parker get on the line and talk. Booth gave him the candy-coated version of what had happened and promised to make it up to him for the next game. Parker accepted it as well as could be expected and told his dad to go catch the bad guy. Booth agreed and handed the phone to Sadie, who proceeded to give Parker a blow by blow account of her day while Booth and Max started walking again.

She had just hung up, wiggling off of Max's back so she could skip to the SUV, when the world around them exploded, knocking them to their feet as flames shot up in the air no less than twenty yards in front of them. Without a second thought, Booth pulled Sadie to him, shielding her with his body and hauling Max to his feet to move him away from the blast.

"Get her back!" he yelled to Max, ears ringing as he tried to pass Sadie off.

Max's gaze, though, was riveted to the scene unfolding in front of them and Booth's stomach dropped as he tracked it, his veins going cold as he realized what the explosion had been.

"Bones!" he yelled, dropping Sadie unceremoniously onto the lawn.

His legs churned under him as fast as they could, his body ignoring the heat as he drew closer to the inferno that used to be his SUV.

"BONES!"

Smoke bit at his eyes and his skin prickled the closer he got. He shouted her name as if that would somehow magically summon her from the depths. Voices shouted at him to stop but he couldn't. He had to save her. Had to get to her before the flames hit the gas tank and it was too late.

He was within five feet of the car when he was tackled to the ground, the wind sucked from his lungs. A powerful set of arms got him in a fireman's hold and picked him up, carrying him away from the wreckage just as a second blast sounded behind them.

Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.

Shrapnel from the SUV dug into his skin and he fed on the pain, using it to fuel his strength and break his attacker's weakened hold. He felt his knuckles crack as fist hit face, but the other man absorbed the blow as if it were nothing and again, Booth was restrained.

"Stand down, soldier," Chris' voice cut through the ringing in Booth's ears and the sound of approaching sirens, the grip on his arms tightening, "There's nothing you can do."

Grief threatened to choke him, when another sound reached his ears, spurring him to action once again. He stomped down hard on Chris' instep, freeing his arm just enough for an elbow shot to the solar plexus. The guard went down and Booth took off, this time away from the fire and toward his shrieking daughter.

Sadie was kicking and screaming against Max, who held her tightly to him, his face set in grim determination. The two men's eyes met and the older man surrendered his charge. Realizing who now held her, Sadie collapsed in her daddy's arms, her tears seeping through his shirt, adding their weight to his chest. He crushed her to him, stroking her matted curls and whispering nonsense words into her ear.

Not until he was fully sure that his chest blocked her view did he turn away from the fire, carrying her back up the steps into the building. Max trailed behind him, offering a steady hand as Booth's adrenaline rush began to fade.

Just inside the doors, a pale-faced Angela rushed up, Hodgins hot on her heels. Booth shook his head at the unspoken question before easing himself and Sadie to the floor, not trusting his feet to take another step. Angela's hand flew to her mouth as the color drained from Hodgins' cheeks.

At Booth's side, his cell phone shattered the stunned silence.

"Agent Booth," the now familiar voice spoke as he pressed the phone against his ear, still cradling Sadie in his lap, "Now you know what it is to feel the loss of someone you love and you must choose how to respond. Choose wisely."


	11. Getting Away From it All

**Here's hoping this posts correctly...**

* * *

Chapter 11: Getting Away From it All

The first thing he chose to do was not fling his phone against the nearest wall, no matter how good it would have felt. Then he chose to let the incoming paramedics do their thing, all the while keeping Sadie in his lap. He chose _not_ to go to the hospital like the EMT suggested and he didn't take Cullen up on his offer to drive them home either.

Instead, once he was cleared by the medics, he got to his feet, ignoring the questioning looks and teary eyes, and started walking with Sadie cradled in his arms. He couldn't face what was going on outside, nor did he have any desire to go home and sleep in their bed alone. Putting one foot in front of the other, he walked until he found himself in her office, curled up with Sadie on the couch, and wrapped in the blanket that smelled so much like her.

Sleep, when it came to him, was restless and filled with vivid dreams that covered him in a thin sheen of cold sweat. Every so often, his keen hearing would pick up the sounds of the squints swarming around the lab, but he forced himself not to think about what they could be looking at- or who.

And then there were the memories. Memories of who they'd been and who they had become. Partners. Friends. Lovers. Visions of a fiercely beautiful woman who had the nerve to blackmail him and thus begin a journey that would last a lifetime. Laying there on her couch, in her office, with her scent engulfing him, he could almost pretend that any moment now she'd burst through the door, calling out-

"Booth!" a decidedly unfeminine, not-Bones voice roused him from his quasi-sleep and back to reality.

His eyes snapped open as his arms registered that Sadie was no longer in them and instantly, he was on his feet searching for her.

"Relax, man," Hodgins gripped his shoulder with more strength than Booth would've thought possible, "she's with Max, over in Angela's office."

Booth turned to go to her and again was stopped by Hodgins' grip.

"Wait," the bug man said, an odd gleam in his eyes, "There's something you need to know!"

Booth's answering glare was designed to scare the spit out of Hodgins so that he'd move, but the other man stood his ground, still blocking the way out of the office.

"There were no remains," the words spilled out of Hodgins' mouth, "Well- I mean, obviously there were remains from the warehouse, but there weren't in the SUV- not even a hint of residue, which there should've been but-"

"Don't screw around with me with the squint speak," Booth lost his remaining ounce of self-control, pinning Hodgins against the doorframe, "What are you telling me?"

"She's alive," the other man rasped, sagging and rubbing his throat as Booth released him, "Or at least she wasn't in the SUV when it exploded."

Booth stared at the bug man, reading the earnest truth in his eyes and felt his legs starting to give out underneath of him as his brain caught up to what Hodgins had just told him: Bones wasn't dead.

"Then where the hell is she?" he took a step toward Hodgins again, jabbing the air with his finger, "And what are you doing up here when you should be down there figuring out where she is?"

"Enough!" Cullen's no-nonsense voice ripped through the office as he appeared at the door, "Stand down, Agent Booth, or so help me I will slap you in cuffs and haul you out of here myself."

"Acknowledged," Booth's voice was military crisp and he took a few steps back before meeting Hodgins' eyes, "Sorry."

"We're good," Hodgins replied with a nod, blue eyes conveying he'd have done the same thing in Booth's place.

"Good," Booth repeated, "So where are we in the invest-"

"No, Booth," it was Cullen's hand on his shoulder this time, "You're not on this one."

"But, Sir, that's my-"

"Wife," Cullen nodded, voice leaving no room for argument, "I know. Which is why you will stay away from this case if you want to be able to take it to trial," the deputy director's tone softened ever so slightly, "Look, I've already stuck my neck out as far as I can to keep the squints in on this on, but you're too close. Which is why Agent Perotta-"

At this Booth gave a strangled groan and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Perotta," Cullen repeated, this time with an edge that told Booth not to push him too far, "Will be handling the investigation," he held a hand up to Booth's protest, "Now, it's come to my attention, Agent Booth, that you have declined to take any vacation time the last several years, is this correct?"

Booth looked at Hodgins who shrugged, then shot his boss a puzzled look and nodded.

"Good," Cullen returned the nod, "Then consider yourself on vacation, Booth."

"But, Sir-"

"I don't care _where you go_," Cullen emphasized, "or _what you do_ when you're on vacation. Just don't screw up the case."

"Understood," Booth gave a half-smile, "And thanks."

"We'll find her," came the reply and he left the office.

"Booth?" Hodgins spoke up once the director was out of ear shot, "Um, what just went on there?"

"Cullen's not going to stop me from hanging out here and helping out," Booth explained, "He can't assign me to the case because it's Bones, but if I'm on vacation, I can go wherever I want."

"Ah," the man held the word out like he was a mad scientist or something, "So you're going to stay here and you want us to report- unofficially- to you so that you can help us- unofficially- on the case that you're not supposed to be a part of?"

"Something like that," Booth said, pretty sure he'd gotten Hodgins' gist and wishing for the millionth time that the eggheads around him would speak English, "But if you're uncomfortable with it…"

"Are you kidding?" the blue eyes gleamed in wild expectation, "Rebel against authority, man! It's my motto!"

"O-kay, John Cougar," Booth ducked aside before Hodgins could hug him or something, "What do you say we keep our hands to ourselves and get back to work?"

"You mean, _vacation_?" Hodgins winked, before turning to the door.

"Yeah, vacation- from the Latin to _vacate_, vamoose," Booth shooed him with his hands, "Get out of here and find my wife!"

At the reminder of what was really going on in their world, they both sobered, shared an understanding nod, and went their separate ways. Booth sighed heavily, wondering where in the world Bones could've been taken and vowing that he would kill the Postman himself if even one hair on her head was damaged.

B&B&B&B&B&B&B

While Seeley was sleeping fitfully on her couch, thinking that she was dead and he would never see her again, Temperance was fighting a slow, steady battle to regain consciousness. The first thing she was aware of was that every vein in her head was pounding against her skull, making it difficult to form a coherent thought for any length of time. Her mouth, she quickly discovered, was dry, her tongue thick, and there was a very unpleasant after-taste; no doubt from whatever chemical solution had been used to render her unconscious in the first place.

Once the throbbing in her head receded to a dull ache, she attempted to open her eyes and see exactly what sort of environment she had been thrust into. To her surprise, the lighting was dimmed, as if it were night, and the room, fully finished and furnished, was far from the cinder block walls she had come to associate with captivity. In fact, she realized for the first time, she was not restrained in the least.

A wide yawn split her face and she stretched on the bed where she had been laid, testing her limbs for injuries as she did so. Her arms, especially, felt heavy from the drugging, but beyond that she could ascertain no damage. When she stood to her feet, they seemed solid enough beneath her, so she decided to explore the strange confines.

The bedroom was modest-sized, housing a bed, a small dresser, and a nightstand. Where a closet might have been, there instead was a small bathroom, complete with a stand-up shower. The door to the bedroom had been shut when she'd awakened and she was shocked to discover that the knob turned, allowing her access to the adjoining room.

It was dark in that room as well and it took her a few minutes of stumbling around before she found the light switch. Bright light chased away the darkness and left her staring in amazement at her surroundings. In fact, she was so completely taken off-guard at what she saw, that she blinked several times to be sure she was not merely having a vivid dream.

She stepped away from the light panel, running her fingers over the cold, stainless steel table in front of her and laying her palm flat on it. This was no dream.

_Who_, she wondered, fingering a card that had "Welcome Home" spelled out in postage stamps alongside his familiar signature, _was this Postman? And why was he holding her captive in an exact replica of her lab at the Jeffersonian?_


	12. Case In Point

Chapter 12: Case in Point

As there was nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, Temperance continued her self-guided tour of her new surroundings. It was very odd to her how much of a resemblance the room she was currently bore to her own lab, and more specifically, the forensic platform. There were two stainless steel examination tables, a digital magnifier with a monitor screen, microscopes of various sizes and strengths, a computer terminal and workspace, a high-resolution digital camera with several different lenses, four flat-screen TVs, not to mention some of the more highly specialized machines that would have cost a private buyer a great deal of money.

A lab coat bearing her name opposite the Jeffersonian logo hung on a freestanding coat tree in one of the back corners of the "lab" area. There was also a small table near the coat tree, laden with a percolator and an assortment of fresh fruit and pastries. Not that she was altogether sure she should trust that the food had not been poisoned.

Suddenly, the computer monitor flickered to life and began looping the same video again and again. The second time it played through, she was shocked to discover that the vehicle that she was watching explode was none other than Seeley's SUV. The fourth time through, the first part of the video was the same, but shortly after the SUV exploded, the camera zoomed in, revealing a man fighting his way toward the inferno.

She heard rather than felt her quick intake of breath as her eyes instantly recognized her husband, and though she knew he couldn't hear her, she still wanted to cry out to him not to approach. A sigh of relief was heaved when another figure emerged from the darkness, tackling Seeley and carrying him away just before a second explosion rocked the vehicle. This time as smoke from the wreckage curled away, the video stopped and once more the room was still.

"He thinks you're dead," a disembodied male voice sounded, echoing slightly against the smooth surfaces.

She nodded stoically, not volunteering the knowledge that, given enough time, her lab could easily determine whether or not human remains had been in the vehicle at the time of the explosion.

"To what end?" she asked instead.

"He needed to feel what it is to lose one that he loved in order to bring about the justice I seek," the voice answered.

"Why not take one of the girls?" she asked, thinking that that would be the more logical approach given all of the remains that he had sent had been young females.

"I needed you," he said simply, then cleared his throat, "But no more questions. It is enough for you to know that here is where you are needed and here is where you will remain until your task is complete. The necessary information has been compiled for you in the computer and the physical evidence is in the storage container to your right. Food and drinks will be provided for you at regular intervals. Time is running out, Dr. Brennan; I suggest you get to work."

There was an audible pop as communication ceased and around her the various machines began whirring to life. Seeing no other alternative, she slid on a pair of the provided latex gloves and moved to the storage container. True to the Postman's word, a box labeled "Evidence" was inside of the container. It was cardboard, the standard size used in official police investigations, and had been sealed with red evidence tape warning against unlawful breakage of the seal.

Grabbing the camera, she took several pictures of the unopened box, then carefully removed the tape. Inside, a physical case file, along with x-rays and a host of other bagged and sealed evidence greeted her. With great care she documented everything with the camera, then began laying all of it out on the table in front of her.

When the box was empty, she set it back in the storage container. Going back to where all of the evidence for whatever it was that she was to be working on, she frowned, not certain where to start. After years of working on one of the top forensic investigative teams for the past several years, she had grown used to delegating the more menial tasks out to those around her. In fact, since she had begun working with Booth, even the time that she had once spent poring over remains had decreased in lieu of her spending more time in the field with him.

There were no bones for her to examine, so she took a seat in the computer chair and began to peruse the file from the box. The story within led her to the conclusion that the evidence in front of her came from the case of one Lily Hairston, a fifteen year-old Caucasian female who had been found murdered in a DC alley a mere five blocks from her home back in the spring of 1995.

The crime scene photos showed a heavily desiccated corpse that had no doubt been scavenged by animals in the month between her disappearance and the discovery of her remains. Findings from the insect activity in and around the body confirmed that she had been in the alley for quite some time. For as much physical evidence as had been collected, however, it appeared that the case remained open, with no significant leads in regards to the killer's identity.

Setting the file aside, she moved to the table and collected all of the x-rays present. Her initial observations were enough for her to conclude that the x-rays matched the murder victim's physical description. As she scrutinized the x-rays a second time, an odd feeling came over her that she could not quite place. The feeling continued the longer she stared at the x-rays until finally she noticed bone remodeling in the right, medial epicondyle and more in the left tibia.

This was not the first time she had looked at Lily Hairston's remains, because Lily Hairston was the unidentified girl- the very first one- that the Postman had sent to the Jeffersonian so many years ago!

B&B&B&B&B&B&B

While Hodgins went back to his cubicle down below, Booth went to the break room, where he found stale donuts and equally stale coffee. Dumping the coffee in the nearest potted plant, he headed to Angela's office for visual confirmation that Sadie was safe and sound. She was and apparently Max had assured her that her mother was fine, because she was busy coloring a picture to give to Bones once she "got back from her trip."

Booth filled Max in on his standing with the FBI, and the two men agreed that Sadie would be with one or the other of them until Bones was safely returned and the kidnapper caught. Max pointed out that Sadie could easily tag along with him during the day while he prepped for his afternoon kid's club classes and could even be his special helper during the classes, then at night, she could be with Booth.

"You need to take her home," Max told him when Sadie left for a bathroom break.

"I _need_ to stay here and find Bones," Booth countered.

"During the day, sure," Max nodded, "Believe me if I was young like you I'd be on the warpath too, but Sadie's still a little bit confused as to what she actually saw last night, and it's not healthy for her to be here all of the time."

"Thanks but I think I know how to parent my own kid," he scowled.

They probably would've gone at it longer, but Sadie came back in the room and attached herself to Booth's leg.

"Can we go home now, Daddy?" she yawned.

Ignoring Max's knowing look, he picked up his daughter and met her eyes, "Well, kiddo, the big problem with that right now is that Daddy doesn't have a car and you don't have a car seat."

"Ask and you shall receive," Angela breezed into the room, booster seat in hand, "We've got a few of these floating around and Jack and I drove separately today so you can take my car."

"Thanks, Ange," he wasn't sure what else to say.

"No problem, g-man," the artist smiled, "Just swear on a stack of Bibles that you will _not_ use my car as a getaway vehicle for 'translated' guys and we'll be good."

Booth chuckled and nodded. Before he knew what was going on, he'd been whisked out the door with Sadie and was on his way to the parking lot. He buckled the little girl in and was unsurprised when she fell asleep five minutes into the trip. Fortunately for him, the early morning rush had cleared and the lunch-time one was just starting to build, so the drive home wasn't long at all. Sadie didn't stir one bit when he carried her into the house and she relaxed instantly when he took off her shoes and tucked her in bed.

Tired and still in his suit from the day before, Booth decided that the time for a shower was long overdue. For the next twenty minutes he let the pounding hot water scald his back and release the tension that had built up in his shoulders, while he wracked his brain for any clues as to where Bones might've been taken. It was obvious from the call last night that the Postman was the one who had her, but he wasn't exactly sure why and there were no leads as to where he came from.

He dressed quickly, not wanting to linger long in the empty room, though when he got downstairs he found himself staring at a picture of her anyway.

_Where are you, Bones?_ he wondered, deciding that he would go off of the assumption that she was still alive until he had cold, hard proof that she was not. He chuckled all of a sudden, knowing that if she could see him, she'd roll her eyes and say something about the folly of consulting inanimate objects; a thought which made him miss her all the more.

His cell phone rang and he tensed, breathing a sigh of relief when the Caller ID told him it was Angela. The SUV crime scene was being processed but so far nothing was helpful was showing up.

"Okay, so Clark did the tissue markers for me on the skull from that first victim and I did a sketch and ran it through the missing children's database," she told him, changing the subject.

"Sounds like a good start," he nodded, making a sandwich as they talked.

"Yeah," he could hear her nod, "Have we decided if you're not allowed to work on the old case or just Bren's?"

"I'm on vacation, Angela," he snorted, "I think that disqualifies me from any case."

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully.

"What?" he asked, "Did you find something?"

"Well, sort of," she hedged, "I mean, I _think_ so, but I'm not positive."

"What's up?" he probed.

"Remember all of those notes you gave me?" she asked, "Well, I'm pretty sure that all of the notes from the original skeleton envelopes came from exactly the same magazine. _Time_ to be more specific, the March 14, 1995 edition. And the one from your finger, is from _Time_ too, but from March 10th of last year instead of '95. Just seems weird, you know?"

He shrugged, chasing down the bite of sandwich that he'd taken with a swig of milk, "There are no coincidences in a murder investigation."

"Yeah, Bren says that all the time too, but Perotta didn't seem to react, so I wasn't sure if it was just me."

Booth hid a snicker at his wife quoting him and replied with a question, "Did you _tell_ her that something smelled?"

From the embarrassed silence on the other end, he guessed not.

"Look, Ange," he said gently, "Perotta's not a mind reader any more than I am and she's probably doing her best just to get caught up to speed at this point, so if you're seeing something that you think's important, _tell_ her."

"It's just not right," Angela sounded like she was near tears, "It should be _you_ here helping us! Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Perotta's a good sort in her own right, but she's not _you_, Booth. And what if we miss something crucial because of that?"

"That's why Cullen's letting me unofficially keep tabs on things," he tried to soothe her, though he understood the frustration and wished he could change things, "But you and the squints have got to play nice with Perotta, because at the end of the day it's her investigation."

"Yeah, I guess," her voice tapered off, then, "What in the world?"

"What?" Booth asked, "What's going on?"

"My sketch got a hit," Angela sounded confused more than pleased, "her name's Lily Hairston."

"Good," he replied.

"Yeah, but here's the kicker," she paused, "Her death's already been investigated and was ruled a murder years ago."

"Okay, so?" he probed.

"So this article that popped up with her file says it's been a cold case since '97," another pause, presumably while she finished reading, "Booth, if what I'm reading's right, this girl's been dead and buried in a graveyard in Virginia for almost fourteen years!"

Booth swore under his breath.

"And get this," Angela added, "She disappeared March 14, 1995."


	13. No I in Team

Chapter 13: No I in Team

After the first one, major revelations were slow in coming.

At the Jeffersonian, Cam was just trying to keep her head above water, finding that she now had almost double the responsibilities in Dr. Brennan's absence. From early in the morning to late at night, she put Brennan's grad students through their paces as they sorted, catalogued, and reconstructed the ten sets of remains that were now in their possession; including Lily Hairston's. She assigned Wendell to make sure that everything was being processed correctly and Clark to put tissue depth markers on each skull and prepare bone slides for further analysis.

Cam was also forced to sit in on several tediously long, boring meetings to discuss the state of the Jeffersonian's security. Neither Goodman nor Cullen was at all pleased by the sheer volume of remains that had been unearthed in the warehouse, or the subsequent kidnapping of their top forensic anthropologist. Booth's exploding SUV had done nothing for the mood either and the fact that all three stories had made their way into the local media had everyone on edge. Goodman was spending much of his free time fielding questions from nervous donors.

In the lab, Angela was working tirelessly, sketching faces and analyzing the ream of notes that had been collected from each of the packages while Hodgins worked the DNA angle. One by one they matched the faces to names and names to crimes, each time finding that the crimes had been previously investigated and the victims subsequently buried by their families. Angela also found that the pattern with the notes using magazine clippings from the week that each victim disappeared was holding true across the board, though neither that, nor the handwriting analysts at the FBI brought them any closer to discovering the Postman's identity.

Agent Perotta found herself overworked and overwhelmed from essentially trying to juggle the case of Dr. Brennan's disappearance alongside the serial killer one. By the end of her first day on the job, she was more than happy to accept Booth's help in the case and they split the responsibilities down the middle with Booth handling things at the lab end, and Perotta out chasing down leads. The two agents were extremely frustrated when Lily Hairston's case file- containing all of the original evidence- turned up missing, though fortunately for them, the other victims' files were not.

Booth spent his days in Bones' office, keeping Perotta in the loop as to what was going on at the lab and his nights at home with Sadie, poring over copies of the old case files to see what, if anything, they had in common, and trying to figure out the best way to answer the little girl's questions as to when Mommy would be coming home. He also found himself on the phone several hours a day with Maddie and Joey, who were extremely upset by Bones' disappearance and kept begging for him to let them come home no matter how many times he told them that they were safer where they were.

Nights were the worst for Booth, especially once Sadie was in bed, and more often than not he found himself going out to the garage when he got to the point where he couldn't stand to look at the files any more. Late into the night he would work on his GTO until he was too tired to move his arms, then he'd shower and collapse on Maddie's bed, in part because he wanted to keep Sadie safe, and also because he couldn't face sleeping in his and Bones' bed alone. And the longer she was gone, the more he wondered if he would ever see her again.

"Okay, people," Cam said as they met for the special Saturday briefing, "Where are we at?"

"The Jeffersonian," someone in the packed conference room cracked, earning a scowl from the head of the table.

"Anyone who's not serious about this can pick up their paycheck from accounting and leave now," her glare moved across the room, "And don't think I'm joking either, because there is nothing funny about either one of these cases and I will clear the room of all but essential personal if necessary," no one breathed a word and she nodded her head, "Good. Now, updates? Let's have them."

"All of the remains have been successfully reconstructed," Wendell spoke up, "Cause of death in every one of them is blunt force trauma to the parietal bone, just above the lambdoidal suture, and we are working on narrowing down a murder weapon. Also, the phalanx that was sent to Agent Booth was matched with the last set of remains collected at the warehouse."

"That would be Claire Bishop," Angela jumped in, passing her latest sketch to the front, "Between Jack and Clark and I, we've matched names and faces to each set of remains and confirmed that with DNA. Also, the magazine clippings on the notes, plus the original case files confirm that- beginning with Lily Hairston in '98 and ending last year- Brennan was sent one body per year and it looks like they all died the year that they were sent."

A collective nod went around the room and all eyes shifted to Pertotta, who squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, "Well, on the FBI side, none of our techs were able to find any fingerprints on any of the envelopes or packaging that was sent. We were able to confirm from the original investigating officers that each of the victims _was_ buried, meaning that the Postman is a grave robber on top of everything else. Caroline's working on getting exhumation orders so that we can look for clues at the gravesites, but it's been slow-going and it'll probably be Monday before the first coffin gets here."

"It's a start," Cam shifted her gaze from the blonde agent to Hodgins, "You'll take custody of the coffins and be in charge of that end of the investigation."

"Aye, aye," Hodgins grinned, not at all disappointed to be up to his elbows in particulates again.

"Find anything useful in the files?" Cam asked, turning to Booth.

"They're all young girls," he shrugged, repeating what they already knew, "Most from decent families, _all_ reported missing, and all of the cases had gone cold. I'm looking for other links, though."

"So," Cam concluded, "We've got a serial killer who's been averaging one per year since the late '90s, and if that's not cheery enough, he waits 'til they're buried to dig them back up, boil the bones, and sends them to Dr. Brennan. Now, how are we on figuring out what he might've done with her?"

Booth cringed visibly and the room got silent.

"We don't have _anything?_" Cam pressed.

"It was a pipe bomb that went off," Hodgins volunteered, "But no prints or anything that would lead us to a specific supplier. And Dr. B wasn't in when it blew," he threw an apologetic look at Booth, "Sorry, man, that's all I've got."

Booth did his best to hide his own disappointment and nodded his thanks.

The silence picked up where it had left off, leaving everyone a tad bit uncomfortable.

"I hate to point out the elephant in the room," Perotta said, "But it has been _four_ days since we've heard anything. We don't know if he's got her or if even if she's still-"

"She's alive!" Booth interrupted, nostrils flaring, "He's got her somewhere and he's keeping her alive for a reason. Why make us think she's dead, otherwise? He doesn't want us to find her and he wanted to distract us long enough for him to shove her in some hidey-hole somewhere."

Perotta shook her head, "There's no proof-"

"Look," Booth stood up, banging his palms against the table, "You people can sit around here and debate proof all day, but until I see her body in Cam's morgue- she's alive! Do you hear me? Alive!"

His outburst was cut short by an incoming call for Cam and the room fell into an uneasy silence.

B&B&B&B&B

Far from being a slab on Cam's autopsy table, Temperance, while not at all pleased to be held against her will and away from her family and her lab, had not yet come to any harm; though she wondered how patient the Postman would remain as the days dragged on. She spent her days running a variety of tests on the evidence that had been gathered in Lily's case and taking copious notes on her findings. For one hour every day she was granted internet access to do more research, though try as she might she could not get past the blocks that had been put up to prevent her access to any e-mail accounts. She also attempted to keep charts such as the ones she'd watched Seeley draw up every case to keep track of the evidence, potential suspects, and other miscellaneous data from which to draw conclusions.

No matter how thorough her efforts, however, she possessed neither the depth of knowledge concerning insects and particulates that Hodgins did, nor Seeley's keen, intuitive insight when it came to drawing conclusions from the data. Plus, without access to the physical remains she felt metaphorically handicapped and unable to make any gains in the case's progress.

"Dr. Brennan," the Postman's voice interrupted her one morning as she ate her breakfast, "I am displeased with the lack of progress that has been made."

"I cannot control your emotions," she told him simply.

"Do not mock me," he warned, "I could easily flood your room with carbon monoxide while you sleep."

"That would be entirely up to you," she kept her calm, "Though I do not believe you would do such a thing."

"And why is that?" he asked, a note of challenge in his voice.

"Because you wish for me to solve this case for you," she answered matter-of-factly, "However, I must inform you that your expectations are too high."

"Are you telling me that the great Dr. Temperance Brennan has finally encountered a case that cannot be solved?" he was the one mocking her now, though she decided not to point that out as his mood seemed a bit mercurial at the moment.

"First," she said patiently, "while it is true that I am the foremost forensic anthropologist in my field, the term 'great' implies historical status and not enough time as passed for my works to be measured against others' in history. Second, my work is not done in isolation, therefore I am not fully qualified to evaluate whether the case is 'unsolvable' or not."

"I assume you are speaking of your partnership with Agent _Booth_?" he spat the name with contempt.

"Booth and I are a team, yes," she nodded, "As well as Drs. Hodgins and Saroyan, Angela Montenegro, and, on very rare occasions when his insight is truly helpful, Dr. Sweets. Each of us works within our own areas of expertise to solve the case."

"And it is because you are alone that my expectations are too high?"

"In part," she admitted, "Though there would have been a higher likelihood of success on my part had you not prevented me from studying the remains in person. There is only so much information I can derive from x-rays and written reports; not to mention the x-rays you provided were crude and limited to only certain regions of the body."

The familiar popping sound told her that communication had ceased and she sighed. At least once a day, the voice would chime in unexpectedly, demanding an update on the status of the investigation. Rarely ever was he pleased with the progress that she made and every attempt to reason with him on how truly limited she was resulted in an abrupt departure.

Finishing the last of her breakfast, she wondered what she should attempt to accomplish, since she had exhausted nearly all of the resources available to her.

"You have until noon," the voice came back over the loudspeaker suddenly, "I suggest you make the best of it.

From out of the wall, a panel slid out, revealing a phone with a portable handset. Before she could touch anything, the dial sounded from the speakerphone portion, followed by a series of tones, and then she could hear the phone ringing. Quickly, she picked up the portable handset, noting that it was nine thirty-six, and waited to see who the Postman had called.

"Jeffersonian Information Desk," a woman's voice answered, "Can you hold?"

"No," Temperance spoke emphatically, "I cannot. I need to be connected to Camille Saroyan immediately."

"Dr. Saroyan is in a meeting," the woman huffed, obviously offended that Temperance could not wait as requested, "I'll put you through to her voicemail."

"You will do no such thing," she poured all of the authority she could into her voice, "This is Dr. Temperance Brennan. I am being held against my will and have been given a limited time frame in which to speak with my colleagues. You will connect me to Dr. Saroyan immediately or I shall be forced to report you to Dr. Goodman."

"Please hold," the incompetent woman said stiffly.

Horridly loud classical music burst over the phone line as she waited to be connected and she grimaced, holding the phone away from her ear.

"Saroyan," Cam's cool voice sounded over the phone, "I am in a very important meeting right now, so this better be good."

"This is Dr. Brennan," she identified herself quickly, "my captor has seen fit to grant me until noon to exchange information with you."

"Dr. Brennan!" the shock was evidenced in Cam's voice and in the background, she heard a familiar voice shout out, "BONES!"


	14. Pieces of the Puzzle

**Hope you all loved the premiere as much as I did!**

**Gum :)**

* * *

Chapter 14: Pieces of the Puzzle

It felt good to hear his voice again and for a brief second she was thankful that she was alone, where no one could see the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

The background noise increased tenfold and seconds later, the phone changed hands.

"Bones," Seeley's voice was breathless, but brought a smile to her face nonetheless, "Are you okay? Where are you? Did you escape?"

"I'm well, though not certain where I am, and no, I have not escaped," she looked at the time, aware that ten minutes had been wasted already thanks to the impudent secretary, "Booth, I don't want to seem rude, however, my captor has given me a limited window of time in which to exchange information."

"Oh, yeah. Sure, Bones," she winced at the slight hurt in his voice, "You want me to put you on speakerphone?"

"I miss you, Seeley," she admitted quickly, then, "Yes, speakerphone would be wise."

"Ditto, Temperance," came the softer reply. There was a small pause, then she heard his distant-sounding voice, "Okay, Bones, we're all ears."

She rolled her eyes at his odd word picture, composed herself, and got down to business. Explaining as much as she could, as economically as she could, she laid out her general findings to that point. The group listened patiently, questioning her only a few times until she finished. Booth seemed intrigued as to why Lily Hairston's case was so important to the Postman, but kept his speculations to a bare minimum.

Once she had finished, the collaboration effort began.

Angela, Hodgins, Wendell, Clark, Cam, and Perotta all took their turns adding their data to hers. She found it slightly disturbing to discover that the man who held her life in his hands had- at the very minimum- exhumed and boiled ten sets of remains over the last eleven years. It also saddened her to hear the list of names that she persuaded Angela to read for her. She couldn't help but speculate how she would feel if the same fate had fallen to her own ten year old. Angela's voice was watery as she reached Claire Bishop's name and Temperance doubled her resolve to bring resolution to each and every family affected.

It was ten 'til noon by the time all of the pertinent information had been exchanged on both sides; though she wished she had time to relay all of the detailed, highly complex results from the tests she had been running on the Hairston evidence to Hodgins. The entomologist had hinted several times that he wished the evidence was in his possession.

"Squint squad," Seeley's authoritative voice spoke, "I need the room."

Chairs scraped and feet shuffled, until the noise faded and a door clicked shut. Suddenly, the sound became more focused and she knew the speakerphone had been turned off.

"How are you, Bones, really?" her husband's concern flooded over her, filling a void she had been forcing herself to ignore over the last four days.

"Really," she attempted to convince him, "I am well. I haven't been harmed and have been well-fed and provided for," she paused for a second, "Are you and Sadie well?"

He gave a sad chuckle and she ached for him and for Sadie, "We're getting by. Max is helping."

Her stomach clenched at the thought of her father. What must he be going through?

"Tell him I am relatively safe and not to acct rashly," she instructed.

The last thing she needed was for her father's homicidal tendencies to resurface.

"I will," he assured her and she knew he understood the deeper implication.

"This is not your fault, Seeley," she said, wanting him to know that she held none of what was happening to her against him.

"Bones," the single word was laden with love, and grief, and self-deprecation simultaneously.

The tentative control that she had on her emotions floundered and she had to swallow the large lump in her throat before she could respond.

"I love-"

The clock on the wall chimed noon and the line went dead. She was alone once more. Clearing her throat and forcing herself to compartmentalize for just a few minutes longer, she addressed her captor.

"I will require a video conference in order to examine the bones and x-rays for myself," she spoke calmly, presuming he had been listening the entire time, "and this evidence will need to be shipped to my associates as soon as possible."

"The mail already went today and there is no mail service on Sundays," the voice reminded her.

"Then I suggest you find an alternate delivery method," she all but spat, "because I assure you that by holding the evidence here, you are impeding the investigation."

"If you had solved this eleven years ago, that would not have been an issue!" he was angry now too.

"We only recovered the last of the victim's remains four days ago," she informed him, surprised he had not deduced as much.

"Her name was _Lily_," there was pain in the man's voice, "Why should I believe such a convenient excuse?"

"What you choose to believe or not is your prerogative," she managed to get her emotions back in check, "Truth is the truth whether you accept it as such or not."

There was a long silence.

"Prepare _only_ the evidence and your results," he ordered finally, "Be warned, however, that any attempts to smuggle notes to your loved ones will result in punishment."

"And the video conference?" she pressed.

"God rested on Sunday. You can too," he answered, "I will determine when it begins and when it ends."

"Understood," she nodded, unsurprised when the transmission ended.

Too emotionally spent to work, she turned off the lights in the ersatz lab and went to her bedroom. An hour and countless gallons of hot water later, she fell into bed, dreaming about home.

B&B&B&B&B

This time the phone hit the wall, and he let out a string of words he hadn't used since his Ranger days. It didn't help anything, but it felt good.

His emotions were raw and close to the surface, feeling as if he were the butt of a cruel joke; to know that she was alive and be able to talk to her, only to be cut off at their most personal moment. He tried hard not to blame her for spending the lion's share of the time swapping data with the squints, and he had to admit she'd done an amazing job communicating so much in so little time. She'd even made time to caution him to watch Max and to assuage him of any guilt. Brain and heart.

Coming out of the conference room he wasn't surprised to see the squints in a huddle at a judicious distance from the room, Perotta lingering just off to the side.

"I owe you a phone," he muttered to Cam.

He turned to Perotta, "Look up everything we've got on Lily Hairston and get her parents into the Hoover today. Call me when they're there."

The other agent nodded and left.

"You," he spoke to Hodgins, "Go find something to squint at that will help and you," he pointed to Angela, "come with me."

He turned on his heel without checking to see if they were following his orders, walking briskly until he found the next person he was looking for.

"Come with me," he all but ordered his father-in-law, who was playing with prisms with Sadie.

Sadie dropped what she was doing and ran to him, clinging to his leg, "Don't go again, Daddy."

"Just for a little, bit, Sadie-girl," he promised, scooping her up for a hug, "Grandpa Max and I have to go help Mommy."

"Is she coming home soon?" the girl pouted, refusing to let go of him.

"As soon as she's done what she's doing, sweetheart," he soothed, stroking her hair and praying with all his might that Bones would make it home alive, "She misses you a lot."

"I miss her too, Daddy," she fixed him with a very serious look.

"I know, baby girl," he set her down gently, "Can you stay with Aunt Angie for a little bit while Grandpa Max and I are gone?"

"Uh huh," her curls bobbed up and down with her head and she looked at Angela, "Can you help me paint a rainbow for my mommy for when she gets home? That would help her be happy."

"I'd love to," Angela said honestly, holding out her hand, "Wanna come use my paints?"

"Yay!" the little girl grinned, "Those are the best."

Booth smiled his thanks at the artist, hugged Sadie one last time, and headed for the parking lot with Max in tow.

"You spoke to Tempe," it wasn't a question.

"She somehow talked the guy into letting her call the lab," Booth filled him in, "Says she's fine and told me not to let you kill anyone this time."

Max grinned ruefully, though Booth could tell the old man was about as pleased as Booth.

"So where are we going?" Max asked as they hopped in Bones' car and peeled out of her parking space.

"To shoot things," Booth said grimly, the anger rising to the surface as the lab faded in the rear view mirror.

Arriving at the Hoover, Booth wasted little time getting to the indoor firing range.

"Pick your poison," he told Max, waving at the selection of firearms available to check out.

Max shook his head, "I'm a hands-on guy. Sharp-pointed objects, that sort of thing. I'm good for moral support, though."

"Suit yourself," Booth shrugged, figuring it was just as well since he probably could get fired if he let Max shoot anyway.

Opting to use his own weapon, he grabbed ear protection for the two of them and headed for an empty stall. His first target got it in the groin, the second in the head, and the next few dead center in the heart. He kept shooting, ignoring the sweat that soaked his shirt.

The vibrating phone in his pocket was the only thing that stopped him. Lowering his gun and whipping off the earmuffs, he flipped the phone open, speaking briefly on the person at the other end before hanging up.

"Time to go," he told Max.

"Where to now?"

"Upstairs," Booth nodded as they left the range, "Perotta found Hairston's mother and got her to come in so I'm going to help."

"Thought you were on vacation?" Max raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna vacation in the observation lounge now," Booth smiled slyly, "And if anyone asks, you're the squintern of the week."

"Lucky me," the ex-con deadpanned.

Booth flashed his badge at security and grabbed a visitor tag for Max, who was a good sport and put it on without a fight.

They got to the observation lounge without running into anyone Booth knew and he quickly slipped on a headset just as Perotta sat down across from Mrs. Hairston.

"I-I'm not sure I understand," the woman was saying, "Why are you asking me about Lily?"

"We're reopening the case," Perotta said easily, "Can you tell me what happened? When you saw her last, I mean?"

"It was the end of February," Mrs. Hairston sniffed, "The first warm day after a really bad cold spell. Lily was going to a sleepover at her friend Marcy's and asked if she could walk there by herself. It-she was only going right up the street so we didn't see the harm. She'd done it so many times before, you know?" she sniffed loudly, accepting the tissues from Perotta, "We just never thought-"

Perotta waited for Mrs. Hairston to compose herself again, "You reported her missing two days later?"

The woman's head moved up and down sadly, her face a mask of a guilt she'd borne for years, "We called Marcy the next night when Lily didn't come home. She hadn't even made it there and we'd never realized it. The police suggested we wait until the morning to declare her missing just in case she turned up, so we did. It was weeks before they found her."

"I'm sorry," Perotta said gently, reaching over to squeeze the woman's hand, "How did your husband handle all of this?"

"Ex-husband now," more sadness and regret, "Benjamin was never the same afterwards."

"He took it poorly?" Perotta pressed.

The woman met the agent's eyes for the first time, "Do you have children, Agent Perotta?"

Perotta shook her head.

"A child becomes a part of your soul from the second you feel that first kick inside the womb. You bring them into this world and you think that nothing can hurt them," Mrs. Hairston said softly, "Oh sure, you worry when they're babies, but by the time they're teenagers, you forget that they're not as indestructible as they think they are. And when they die, they take a piece of you with them."

A heavy silence set in and Booth felt like his heart was in a vice, knowing how much he took his own kids' safety for granted most days and how much of a void it would create if anything happened to them.

"Coffins shouldn't come in children's sizes," the woman sniffed, "And I suppose Ben just couldn't find a way to cope with that. Lily was so full of life you know, and the two of them were close."

Perotta nodded and cleared her throat, "The two of you divorced two years later?"

Another sad nod, and her lips twisted into a sardonic smile, "In counseling, they tell you that fifty percent of marriages where a child is lost fail. Isn't that cheery? I guess there are some things you just can't work through."

"Ask her what they couldn't work through," Booth muttered into the mike for the first time.

"What happened between you?" Perotta asked smoothly.

"He couldn't accept not knowing what had happened and who had done it," Mrs. Hairston answered immediately, "It was like an obsession with him. When they called to tell us they were declaring it a cold case, he was so angry. I told him that it didn't matter. We grieved in two separate ways and never made our way back together."

"Do you know where he is?" Perotta asked gently.

Mrs. Hairston shook her head.

"Bingo," Booth said, not bothering to watch as Perotta comforted the grieving mother one last time.

"You think this Hairston guy is our man?" Max spoke for the first time, startling Booth.

"He's next on my list."

"You can't blame him for wanting to know," the older man said sympathetically.

"No," Booth agreed, knowing how much he wanted answers about Bones right now, "But I can sure as hell hold him accountable to the law if he's broken it. Nothing more dangerous than a vigilante."

Max snorted as they made their way back to the car, "Like you wouldn't go after him yourself if you knew that he had Tempe?"

Booth stopped in his tracks, knowing that a couple of hours ago, that might've been true.

"My job's to enforce the law and work inside of it as much as possible," he told Max finally, "because if I can't do that, I'm no better than the guys I'm trying to put away."


	15. Point and Counterpoint

Chapter 15: Point and Counterpoint

Despite his earlier outbursts, Booth slept soundly for the first time on Saturday night. In his dreams he hear her voice assuring him of her love and felt her gentle touch soothing all of his anxieties away. It was so real that he half-expected her to be laying next to him in their bed when he woke up the next morning. She wasn't, of course, but he buried his head in her pillow, inhaling her fading scent as if he could somehow will her back to him.

A few minutes later his alarm went off, announcing that it was time to get up and get ready for Mass. Sadie must have slept as well as he had because she was the happiest he'd seen her in days and didn't cling to him like a barnacle when they got to the church. The whole time they were there he prayed silently for Bones; that she was still safe, that they would figure out where she was, and that she would come home to him soon.

After Mass he and Sadie changed, then headed over to the Hodgins' estate. The little girl was very excited to play with her friends and Booth was looking forward to working on the case. Cam, no doubt noting the deep circles around their eyes had sent them all home and forbidden them from coming in today, but had said nothing about taking the files home with them.

While the kids ran around in the yard, the adults surrounded themselves with the case notes, looking for answers. Hodgins had his nose buried in a file folder full of technical jargon, while Booth put together a timeline, and Angela searched the Web looking for Benjamin Hairston using all of the information the FBI had gathered.

"Hey Booth," Angela called, "take a look at this."

He abandoned the large post-it note board he'd been working on and peered at the laptop's screen, "What am I looking at?"

"Well, we know that the bones started coming to the Jeffersonian around '98, right?" Booth nodded and she continued, "But we also know that Lily Hairston actually died in 1995, three years before that. So I asked myself why someone would wait three full years before digging her up and sending her in," they both cringed at the thought as she went on, "That's when I found_ this_."

Booth squinted at the screen where she pointed, "An article in _Forensic Anthropology Today_?"

"Not just any article," Angela corrected, "This puppy went on to win a couple of awards and was reprinted in a few of the better-known law enforcement magazines too. Stirred up quite a frenzy there too from what I've been able to dig up."

"Why all the fuss?" he asked.

"Because basically, the author argued that there was a shift taking place in the crime-solving industry and that within ten years more crimes would be solved by people in lab coats than agents out in the field."

Booth snorted, "Yeah, that worked out well."

"Hey, don't knock it totally," Angela smirked up at him, "Science has pulled your FBI butt out of the sling more than once over the years. Besides, that's not the kicker."

Booth sighed, taking the bait, "What is?"

"Check out the article's byline," she pointed to the screen again.

"Dr. Temperance Brennan," he muttered, shaking his head, a rueful smile playing on his lips.

"Yup," Angela nodded, "This was our girl's first major piece that got recognition in the scientific community and out in the real world too. Ironic, given what you two do these days, but back then that kind of thing was in its infancy."

"No kidding," his mouth twitched at the corners, "Bones and I had been working together for a couple years before the guys at the Bureau stopped giving me hell. And even then they only shut up because we were closing more cases than anyone else."

"Squints and suits make strange bedfellows," the artist waggled her eyebrows, then sobered, "You see what I'm getting at, though?"

"You think this caught our guy's eye and he picked Bones to help him on his private crusade to find his daughter's killer?"

She nodded, "Before this article came out, Mr. Benjamin Hairston can be found all over the place, talking to everyone who will listen about cold cases and how the police basically gave up on finding Lily's killer. Fast forward to the article's mass publication, and Hairston suddenly drops off the grid and is never heard from again. A month later, Bren gets her first package."

Booth ran a hand through his hair, thinking, "That tracks to a point. But why all of the other girls? And why kidnap Bones now? I mean, as far as he knows, she's had eleven years to solve this case for him, so why wait so long, then all of a sudden demand results?"

She shrugged, "That's your territory, g-man, all I'm suggesting is that he's had his eye on Bren for a lot longer than we've thought."

The problem was, he decided later that night as he worked on his car again, that Ange's theory was sound and that disturbed him on more than one level. For starters, it meant that this guy had been keeping tabs on Bones for longer than Booth had known her, and in a sense had been stalking her for the last eleven years. It also meant that this guy's patience was obviously running thin after so long, and impatient people tended to do irrational things, so now that he had Bones, he might very well hurt her if she _couldn't_ crack this thing.

Even more disturbing was the weird jealousy that Booth felt toward Hairston. What Booth hadn't told Angela was that he remembered hearing about Bones' article and laughing along with all of the other guys at the time. Of course, it had only been a few years later when he'd found out that her claims weren't too far from the truth, but at the time, he hadn't thought much about scientists and their role in forensics. Cops solved crimes, not squints. Knowing that Hairston had believed in Bones and her abilities before Booth had did not sit well with him at all.

From across the garage, his cell phone sounded.

"Enjoying your day of rest, Agent Booth?" the garbled voice taunted.

"It was peachy keen, Hairston, how 'bout yours?" Booth shot back, wiping at the greasy sweat on his forehead.

"Oh, ho," the voice laughed, "So you _can_ figure things out on your own after all?"

"Go figure," Booth answered.

"How _is_ dear old Nicole doing these days?" Hairston referred to his ex-wife.

"Turn yourself in and you can ask her yourself," Booth offered.

"Thanks, but no," he replied, "That ship's long since sailed. Meanwhile, Agent Booth, let's talk about _your_ wife."

Booth thought of about a dozen different comebacks, but chose to keep silent instead.

"Dr. Brennan has requested another chat," Hairston went on, "this time a video one so that she can view the remains you idiots apparently just found in the mailroom. She also wants me to send your scientists the evidence along with the results that she has been gathering during her visit-"

"Imprisonment, you mean," Booth interrupted.

"Potato, potato," Hairston replied, unimpressed, "Either way, I have decided to grant her these requests, provided that you and I can lay down some ground rules."

Again, Booth chose to say nothing.

"First," the man said, "Only Ms. Montenegro and Dr. Hodgins will converse with Dr. Brennan during the course of the conference. Lily's remains will be present beforehand so there will be no need for people running to and fro, nor do I see any reason for Dr. Saroyan to be present."

"Cam won't like that," Booth told him, "she likes to be in on these things; being the boss and all."

"I'd like my daughter back, Agent Booth, but that isn't going to happen" the voice was cold, "and Camille Saroyan is the boss as much as you are the brains."

There was a pause, as if Hairston had lost more control than he'd planned, and on his side of the phone Booth smirked. Hairston might think he was the one calling all the shots, but the more he talked to Booth, the more he revealed and one of these days he was going to slip and reveal something vital. He'd already proven he could be easily provoked and Booth would use that when the time was right.

"At eight, a courier will arrive with the evidence," Hairston was laying out his 'terms' again, "If no one is there to receive it, it will be lost to you. You will have from nine o'clock to noon to relay information via video. After this, Dr. Brennan will be given forty-eight hours to reach her conclusion."

"Or what?" Booth asked.

"Pray you do not have to find out," was the reply and the line went dead.

Snapping the phone shut, he stood for a long moment, all of the tension that had dissipated from the contact with Bones coming back. The longer she was with Hairston, the more she was in danger, he was sure of it.

He opened the phone back up and called Max to watch Sadie for the rest of the night. Then he called Cam, and Sweets, and Angela and Hodgins, telling them to meet him in his office at the Hoover. They had ten hours before the courier would be at the lab and Booth planned on using every second he could to his advantage.


	16. Monday, Monday

Chapter 16: Monday, Monday

Objectively, there was nothing to distinguish Monday from any of the other mornings she'd awoken to since her captivity began. She was still alone in the sparse bedroom, still unsure of where she was being held, and still slightly unsettled that the provided food and clothing so closely mirrored her own preferences. Subjectively, however, this morning was different because of the series of events that were scheduled to take place, and the slight chance that somewhere along the way, the Postman would make a mistake that would provide for her escape.

A quick glance at the clock as she finished eating informed her that it was eight, which meant that back at her real lab the courier had arrived and was waiting for someone to sign off on the box of original evidence. Confirming that the evidence was safely at the lab was something that she looked forward to, as it would leave her with one less obstacle to consider in the event that she had to depart quickly.

Over the next hour, she double-checked that everything she could prepare ahead of time was done. During the phone conversation, the three hours had slipped by more rapidly than she had anticipated and she was determined this time to be ready to exchange as much information as possible in as little time as possible, leaving her ample time to examine the remains. As damage to the parietal bone just above the lambdoidal suture seemed to be the cause of death for each of the ten victims, it seemed prudent for her to begin her observations with the skull and move from there as time remained.

At eight-fifty, the drawer that had held the phone slide out, revealing a manila envelope. Warily, she opened it and was pleasantly surprised to find that it contained Lily Hairston's x-rays. Far from the crude, incomplete set that had been at her disposal thus far, these came from the Jeffersonian, and were highly superior in quality and quantity. She paged through them until she reached the ones of the skull and hung them on the viewing lights to observe, even as the computer on the desktop hummed to life.

At exactly nine o'clock, the computer opened up a visual link to the Jeffersonian. Unconsciously she held her breath, hoping that all would be as it should on the other side.

"Dr. B?" she struggled to keep the disappointment off of her face when it was Hodgins, not Seeley, whose face came into focus.

"I'm here," she replied evenly.

"Good to see you, Bren," Angela's smile lit up the screen as she stepped into the frame beside her husband, "Did you get the x-rays we sent back?"

"Yes," Temperance nodded, "Though they only just arrived so I've not had the chance to study them yet."

"Okay," Angela nodded, then frowned, "Um, care to fill us in on why it looks like you could be standing right across the table from us?"

The question took her aback for a moment as she had gotten used to the eerie resemblance of her surroundings to the lab.

"Apparently the Postman felt I'd be more at home in this environment," she answered, "Plus some of the equipment was necessary for me conduct experiments on the evidence."

"Creepy," Angela shuddered in response, "Oh, and FYI, the Postman is Benjamin Hairston, our victim's dad."

A picture of a man in his thirties with his arms wrapped around a teenage girl smiled at Brennan from the monitor and the exchange of information began. Hodgins and Angela took turns relaying the information that had been garnered from Nicole Hairston, as well as their independent research. It didn't surprise her in the least to hear Angela's theory that Hairston had been all but stalking her for quite some time given how accurately he had provided for her needs during her stay, but it did cause her unease to grow.

Very quickly the conversation shifted from Benjamin Hairston to Lily. Hodgins relayed all of the wound measurements, along with the list of weapons that had been ruled out so far by Wendell and Clark. Brennan ran down through her list of questions, jotting down the answers in shorthand and making mental notes of things that stood out to her as significant as they went along.

With an hour and forty-six minutes remaining, she began her analysis of the skull. It was frustrating not to be able to handle the skull and feel for imperfections, nor hold it as close as she would have wished. To her relief, Angela's three-dimensional rendering of the skull allowed Brennan to rotate and zoom in on the parts of the physical skull that were difficult to see over the video link. Images of the bone slides were also sent to her, along with pictures of the fractured area of the skull that had been magnified and she drank all of the information in, thankful that she was able to save those images to the hard drive for further analysis.

A chime sounded from somewhere behind Hodgins and Angela, bringing Brennan's head up from her notes. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw what had been placed on the stainless steel table beside them. Shaky lines drawn in vibrant colors stood out on the small piece of canvas, forming a rainbow that covered two figures; one with flaming red hair and the smaller one with yellow curls. Raindrops had been painted in the sky, a bright sun in the corner shining through them and across the rest of the sky the words "I love Mom" had been scrawled in crayon.

Her eyes shifted away from the painting, focusing on the framed picture of Maddie, Joey, Sadie, Parker, and Seeley that she kept on the desk in her office. Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes as she took in the sight of her family for the first time in almost a week. She wondered if Sadie had grown at all in the past week and how Maddie and Joey were faring with their science fair projects without her guidance. Had Parker won his hockey game on Saturday? Was Seeley preparing for his championship match this coming weekend?

A part of her recognized that the world outside of her prison had continued to operate in her absence and she wondered to what extent that was true of her own family as well. She was not ashamed to admit that the thought of them going on with their everyday lives without her brought with it an aching loneliness and desire to be back among them, but a part of her also knew that she would feel guilty if their lives came to a grinding halt because of her disappearance.

"They love you, Sweetie," Angela spoke softly.

Temperance nodded, waiting until the connection was severed to allow a lone tear to course down her cheek, splashing on the desk below. With grim determination, she forced the rest to recede, sniffed once, and surveyed all of the data in front of her. It was time to get to work so that she could go home.


	17. Numb3rs

Chapter 17: Numb3rs

Booth stood for the entire three hours just off camera, where he could see but couldn't be seen. It was the only part he hated about the whole arrangement, but if everything went off the way it should, it would be worth it. At least, that's what he told himself, and he almost believed it until he saw the look on her face when it was Hodgins' face on her screen instead of his. It felt like a knife twisting in his gut, but he'd waved Angela into the frame and stayed where he was.

Just before time ran out, he handed Sadie's painting and the family photo to Angela with a sad smile. One of the machines in the lab went off and he watched Bones raise her head to see what was going on. There wasn't a dry eye in the house as they watched her take in first the painting, then the picture. He could see her processing it all, felt the loneliness in her eyes as she continues staring. In an odd way he was proud of her for containing her emotions. She was a very private person and right now she was on display in a very public way.

As the connection dropped, he wished that he could be there to hold her now, because he had no doubts that she'd let at least a few tears fall. Not that it would get in the way of her work- she was far too good at compartmentalizing for that- but she would allow herself a moment to feel, and it killed him that he couldn't be there for her in that moment.

"Okay," he cleared his throat at the small gathering of people that had accumulated as the time limit had wound down, "Back to work. Hodgins- go squint at all that evidence that came in, see if it can tell us anything we don't already know. Ange- get over to the Hoover and give Sweets as much background info as you can on Benjamin Hairston. I want his thoughts by the end of the day."

"Good to see you're enjoying your vacation, Booth," Cullen's dry voice sounded from behind him and Booth turned to see the Director along with Agent Perotta entering the lab.

"You know me, Sir," Booth gave him his best 'aw shucks' grin, "I live for vacation."

Cullen shook his head, "Uh huh. Just remember, you step one foot out of this lab during the retrieval effort and you'll be pulling desk duty under Caroline for the next six months. "

Booth cringed inwardly at the thought, and pasted on a smile, "Yes, Sir."

"And Booth?" Cullen added, pinning him with his gaze, "The FBI gets nervous when your father-in-law's in the building. Don't let that happen again any time soon."

"Yes, Sir," Booth shot a wry grin at Max, who was doing nothing to hide that superior Brennan look in his eyes.

Booth looked over at Perotta expectantly, "So did it work?"

"Yes and no," Booth hid a smirk at the agent's reply, knowing how much his wife hated that answer, "The tracking device on the envelope was disabled, just as we'd suspected it would be and the courier wasn't a big help either."

"So what's the yes part?" Booth asked impatiently, fingering the poker chip in his pocket.

"Well," Perotta looked over at Cullen, who nodded his permission before she continued, "It looks like he didn't pick up on our trace of the conference, though the guys in IT tell me it's going to take a while to unravel everything and come up with a location."

"But they _can_ do it?" Booth asked.

"Eventually," Perotta nodded.

"And the Trojan horse?" he asked, hating that she was dragging things out; something that he had lost his taste for after dealing with the blunt squints for so long.

She shrugged, "Whatever anti-virus software he's running didn't pick up on it when she downloaded the files, so as far as we know it's working. It only kicks in after the computer's rebooted and is online."

"Bones said she was doing online stuff," Booth said, even though everyone knew it, "So it should work."

"It'll give us a general area," she cautioned, not wanting to get his hopes up, "We still won't have an exact location unless the guys from IT can work their way through the proxy maze this guy's set up."

"It'll be better than what we've got now," Booth told her.

Perotta nodded and Booth hated the sympathy in her eyes as she and Cullen headed back to the Hoover.

"I'll be upstairs," he said to no one in particular.

Alone with his thoughts in her office, he worked on taking all of the pieces of the puzzle that Bones and the squints had gathered so far and making some sort of sense out of them. He tried as hard as he could _not_ to think about Bones and the forty-eight hour deadline that he was pretty sure she didn't realize she was under. Given how mercurial Hairston had been from time to time, there was no way Booth wanted Bones anywhere near the man on Wednesday, but the fact that the IT team was going to need time didn't hold much promise in that area.

Around one, Sadie and Max joined him for lunch and he assured Sadie that he had shown Bones the painting and that she had liked it very much. Again, Sadie asked him when her mommy could come home, and again, he held her close and told her that she would need to be patient for just a little while longer.

A frantic Jaina was the next person to show up, just as Sadie and Max were leaving. Max herded Sadie away quickly and shut the door behind them.

"Calm down," Booth urged the frenzied publicist, "And tell me what's wrong."

"It's just," Jaina paced back and forth in the office like a caged tiger on caffeine, "I- I'm not sure what to do or what to say, you know? People have been calling and asking where Dr. Brennan is and what happened to her. The book campaign's all ready to launch, but we don't have our authoress and the press junket is in two weeks, just after the advance copies go out!"

"First," Booth spoke soothingly, handing the kid a cold water from the mini-fridge, "don't ever let Bones hear you calling her an authoress, she hates that," he flashed a smile to lighten the mood and was happy to see Jaina relax somewhat, "Second, tell the press no comment. The FBI and the Jeffersonian don't discuss ongoing investigations and you shouldn't either."

"Okay," Jaina took a deep breath, followed by a huge gulp of water, and looked around the room, "What're you doing in here, anyway?"

"Putting the case together," he explained, glad to take her mind off of her job's pressures for a minute, "Once we go to trial, we'll have to have all of our ducks lined up in a row to convict the guy."

"Ooh," she looked interested, "You mean like on JAG?"

"Er, sort of," he hedged.

"I love JAG," Jaina sighed.

He thought about pointing out to her that the show had been over for years, but figured it really didn't matter in the long run.

"Anything else I can do for you?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head with a long sigh, "I just really hope she gets home safe."

"Me too," he smiled, seeing her to the office door.

He turned back to his work as she left and began putting all of the victims' names in chronological order on his timeline.

"Hey, Booth," the voice came out of nowhere from behind him.

"Do you people _not_ know how to knock?" he said, covering the fact that Hodgins had nearly scared the socks off of him.

"Look, if it's a bad time," the scientist trailed off.

"No, man," Booth shook his head, inviting Hodgins to take a seat, "I'm just on edge, that's all."

"I know that feeling," the bug man nodded, still standing and shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"Got something for me?" Booth asked.

"Not sure," came the reply, "I mean, it's something, but I'm not sure what it is, and it _could_ just be nothing because I _really_ haven't gotten that much sleep lately. Which I'm sure you haven't either, and I'm not sure we should even bring this up to Perotta-"

"Jack," Booth cut him off with a wave of his hand, "just tell me what you found and I'll tell you if it's worth taking to Perotta, okay?"

"Okay," he was still obviously on edge, but at least he took a seat, opening the file he'd been clutching to his chest like a favorite stuffed toy.

"These," he pointed to a long column of numbers that made absolutely no sense to Booth, "are the results Dr. Brennan sent over from the tests she ran on the evidence."

"Okay," Booth prompted, when he didn't go on.

"It's just-" Hodgins furrowed his brow, "It's just that they're wrong."

"What do you mean, wrong?" Booth asked, "Bones doesn't do wrong."

"I know, right?" Hodgins was getting nervous and picking up speed again, "She doesn't, but I performed a couple of the tests myself just to be sure and I can tell you that she _was _wrong; or at least that her data was wrong."

"So what do you think's going on?" Booth prodded gently, knowing that Hodgins was just as uncomfortable with jumping to conclusions as Bones was, "Best intuitive leap?"

"Ithinkshe'ssending usamessage," the words came out all piled on top of each other like he'd spontaneously combust if he dragged it out.

"A message?" Booth wanted to make sure he'd heard right.

"Mm hmm," Hodgins' head looked like Booth's bobble-head bobbie.

"Like 'help me' or something like that?"

The bobbing stopped and Hodgins shook his head, "No. More like clues to her environment. You know, unique factors that could help narrow down where she is," he took a deep breath before continuing, "If I'm reading these deliberate miscalculations correctly, she's given us the exact pH and mineral content of the water around her."

"She's near a lake?" Booth was confused.

"No, no," Hodgins' head shook vigorously, "Not that kind of water, I mean tap water."

"Does that help us?" he asked.

"It could," Hodgins sounded hesitant again, "Water content isn't a precise signature, but if I know its exact chemical and mineral makeup I can narrow it down to a neighborhood for you."

"How long?" Booth wanted to know.

"I've got another couple of pages to check for inconsistencies before I can be reasonably certain," the bug man explained, "And like I said, it might not be anything more than my tired brain making something where there's nothing."

"Fair enough," Booth nodded, "But you're right that Bones doesn't make mistakes, so I'm good with us operating on the assumption that these 'mistakes' were deliberate on her part," he waited for Hodgins' nod, "Let's just play this one close to the vest until we've got more hard evidence. No Cam, no Perotta; just the two of us know about this."

Resolve replaced the nervousness on the bug man's face and he gave a simple nod before leaping to his feet, gone as quickly as he had come.

"Hang in there, Bones," Booth whispered in the empty room, "We'll getcha."


	18. Monsters

Chapter 18: Monsters

Twenty-four hours into her captivity, she had decided that this was the longest that Seeley had taken to find her in seven years of partnership. She decided that perhaps he had not found her yet because he didn't know where to look. The solution she devised was ridiculously simple: Encode a message within the work that she was already doing that would not be obvious to the casual observer but would catch the eye of the intended recipients. She just hoped it was not so simple that she was caught doing it.

After compiling a mental list of test results that would help Seeley and her team narrow down where she was, she settled on testing the water- both from the faux lab and the bathroom- as well as the small soil deposits that had been on the bottoms of her shoes when she'd woken up.

Obtaining results on the soil was relatively easy to mask. There were soil samples in the purloined evidence box, so she simply tested the material from one of her shoes under the auspices of working the case. She also managed to transfer the soil from her second into an empty vial, which she slipped into the box along with the old evidence.

Testing the water's contents had been slightly more difficult. After all, it wasn't as if there was a legitimate reason for her to be doing so in regards to the case. Hairston, however, did not seem to realize this and had done nothing to impede or question her surreptitious tests.

From there, it was just a matter of where, amid the numbers, to hide the results so that only Hodgins would find them. Fortunately, she could be confident in the knowledge that Jack was as precise as she and would notice that the numbers looked wrong at a glance. The trick then became how to set up the encryption so that decoding it would be simple as well. That took her the better part of a day, but when all she had was time it wasn't a problem. All totaled, it had taken her three days to test and encode all of the data within the other results.

The final element in her scheme was the most difficult for her because of the subterfuge involved. Early in her life it had been impressed upon her- ironically enough, by her parents- that deception was unfavorable and forthrightness far more appealing. The viewpoint followed her into adulthood and as such had resulted in her being a horrible liar. Instead of lying, then, she had decided to create a reasoned argument designed to persuade Hairston to allow her to send the evidence back to the Jeffersonian, along with the results from her tests.

She was only slightly concerned when he warned her against sending "notes" for help back with the file, but no repercussions had come when she sent the file to him for inspections, so she presumed that he had not noticed anything out of the ordinary. Early on in her questioning of Jack during their brief video conference, she had confirmed that the file was safely in his hands and had double-checked one of the tampered results with him to be sure that her message had gotten through. He hadn't questioned her as to the faulty results at the time and she took this to be an indication that he recognized that some of the results were deliberately incorrect.

Meanwhile, despite her tenuous circumstances, she found herself increasingly drawn to Lily Hairston's case. In fact, it was not at all difficult for her to fully concentrate on it once the means for her release had been secured. Armed with the full spread of x-rays along with the pictures and computer renderings from Angela, she began comparing the notes from her observations to the previous information that she had gathered.

From her preliminary findings, Brennan hypothesized that the victim's death had not been a pleasant one. Her shoulder had been separated from a sharp pull from behind that she had tried to escape. She had then been driven to her knees so hard it had bruised the bone. Wearing on the wrists and ankles indicated that she had been bound for approximately eight days in a prone position, which was consistent with the police report's findings that she had been raped prior to her death; though they had not found any DNA evidence to lead them to a suspect.

The blow to her parietal bone had been fatal. Hard enough to leave staining on the inside bone, but not hard enough to shatter it, the blow had been precise and deliberate. The markings it left were not ones that she automatically recognized, but appeared to have come from above and to Lily's left. Brennan was saddened, but unsurprised to find no evidence that suggested Lily had resisted it. Soil from two different locales was present, suggesting that she had been held at a separate location before being dumped in the alley. Exposed to the elements and subject to feral street cats and rodents, the report had indicated that her body had been in the alley for at least two weeks; though Jack would most likely be able to determine a more precise time of death than the original ME.

That night, Temperance's sleep was restless and uneasy. Years ago, Seeley had tried to explain to her how exposure to horrific crimes affected his parenting and she had not understood. Now, however, her dreams were filled with images of Maddie, bound to a bed and screaming for her to help, terrified of a monster whose presence was more felt than seen.

Dispensing with any further pretense to gain sleep, she turned on every available light, took a hot, invigorating shower, and decided that four o'clock was close enough to the beginning of the day for her to begin working again. She booted up the computer and began typing furiously, determined to organize her thoughts and dreading the next time Hairston's voice would appear and begin asking questions. She wondered if he was prepared for the weight his desired knowledge would carry with it.

All of a sudden, the power was cut, electricity draining out of the computer with a whoosh. With no outside light to draw from, she was plunged into an inky darkness so complete she could see nothing.


	19. Keep on Tryin'

Chapter 19: Keep on Tryin'

It was Max who broke the code.

After a grueling afternoon spent compiling all of the erroneous data and keeping tabs on the computer search, the Hodgins clan, along with Booth, Max, and Sadie had gone back to the Booths' house to eat and compare notes once the kids were in bed.

"I just don't get it," Hodgins complained, throwing his notes down in frustration, "These numbers have _got_ to mean something, but I can't figure out what."

It was well after midnight and they had been working non-stop for hours to no avail, the only steady noise the rain which had been going at it since five.

"Mind if I take a look?" Max asked, moving over from where he and Booth had been perfecting the timeline.

"Be my guest," Hodgins waved, handing Max his notes and pointing to one column, "These have to do with the water and those are the soil results, but I can't figure out how to decode the specifics from the water."

"Well, we've got the soil stuff right?" Booth asked, sitting down heavily in his chair, "From the extra vial?"

"Yeah, but the results were so general they don't mean much of anything without the water specs to go on," Hodgins frowned, "If I could just figure out which numbers represent letters and which don't I'd be good."

From the couch, Max made a low whistle, then grabbed a nearby pad of paper and began scribbling hastily, brow furrowing in concentration as he wrote.

"Got something?" Booth moved to the edge of his chair.

Max nodded, held up a finger, and continued writing. For a full five minutes the room was silent save for the scratching on pencil on paper.

"Here," Max slid the pad to Hodgins once he'd finished.

The other man stared at him incredulously before turning to devour the notes, while Booth arched a questioning eyebrow.

"It's a cryptogram," Max shrugged by way of explanation, "She used to eat these things up as a kid. That," he pointed at the papers, "was a code she and Russ came up with one summer. They'd decided they were spies or something; used to use up all my post-its leaving notes for each other. I don't think it ever occurred to them that we'd cracked it the first day, but they were having fun so we just let them."

"She knew," Booth said, convinced, "I told her the other day that you were helping out with Sadie so she knew that you would see the code eventually and she knew you'd be able to break it. Just like she knew that Hodgins would spot the errors."

"And that you would use it to go after her," Max stated and shook his head as Booth opened his mouth in protest, "Have you ever not?"

Booth spluttered to find words and failed.

"Gotcha!" Hodgins crowed, releasing Booth from any further awkwardness.

"Found something?" Booth asked.

"That and a lack of something," Hodgins nodded, snatching the laptop from his wife, "A while back, the government decided that it would be fun to start putting fluoride into public water systems. Some neighborhoods took it laying down but others made enough noise at got it taken out- very Erin Brockovitch-"

"Hodgins, focus," Booth snapped his fingers impatiently, "What's that got to do with Bones?"

"Gives us a narrower search pool," Hodgins answered, typing away, "Those stats tell me this is public water, but with no fluorine. It's hard water too, with traces of lead, so we're talking plumbing that hasn't been updated in decades."

While Hodgins went silent, closing in on a list of neighborhoods in the metro area that fit his description, Booth got on the phone.

"This had better be good, Seeley," the somewhat breathless voice on the other end of line warned.

"It is Camille," Booth smiled, "Hodgins found something."

"In the casket soil?" she asked, "What's he still doing at the lab?"

"No, not that," Booth shook his head.

"Particulates from the remains?" she guessed before he could finish.

"No, he's-"

"Well, what else is there?" she was getting agitated.

"Camille," he spoke sharply to get her attention and waited for her to be quiet, "It's Bones, Cam. We've got a lead on her."

"From what?" Agitation had been replaced with irritation.

"Bones smuggled information back with the evidence. Hodgins caught it, Max interpreted it, and now Hodgins links we might have a lead," Booth winced, knowing what would come next.

"And this didn't seem like a critical thing to _mention_ to me?" she was not pleased, "There's a loop-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're the big curvy part," Booth hid a chuckle, then grew serious, "We have a leak at the lab, Cam, I had to be cautious, and if you'll remember I _did_ invite you over tonight."

"A date," he could almost see her arms flying up in the air, "I had a date. A very good one too that might've had a happy ending, except now I'm going to have to explain to him why I've got to kick him out of my apartment at two in the morning."

"But you're in the loop," Booth smirked, "And-"

"Got it!" came Hodgins' excited yelp from the couch and Booth switched to speakerphone so that Cam could hear too, "Well, I've got a list. There are about ten neighborhoods on it though; four here in DC, two in Maryland, three in Virginia, and one in West Virginia."

"Can you narrow it down any further?" Cam asked.

"I'm matching soil conditions now," Hodgins told her, typing like a mad man, "That got us down to the Virginia ones."

"Okay," Cam went into take-charge mode, "What we need to do now is-"

A beep interrupted her.

"Perotta's calling, Cam," Booth informed her, "Switching to conference."

"Booth?" Perotta asked when he picked up the line.

"Here," he answered.

"My tech guy just told me that someone activated the Trojan," she informed him, "We're closing in now, but we think she's in-"

"Virginia," Booth finished, "Yeah, the squints think so too."

"Good to know," she said dryly, "We should-"

There was a murmur of voices and Perotta swore.

"He's on to us," she came back on the line, "Cut the power completely."

It was Booth's turn to swear, followed closely by Max and Cam. Angela paled and Hodgins turned back to the laptop and started typing again.

"Best guess," Booth pressed Hodgins.

The bug man asked Perotta for the coordinates they'd had just before they lost the signal and Booth began pacing the room while the numbers were being plugged in, trying as hard as he could not to think about what could be happening with Bones.

"Down to two neighborhoods now," Hodgins updated them.

"Wait!" Angela jumped up suddenly, digging through the files, "I remember reading somewhere that Hairston's mom lived in Virginia. Something about a farm, but it'd been sold off to a developer a few years back."

"Shady Maples," the name popped from Booth's lips, "That's what the new development was called."

"The pipes that water came through were old," Hodgins shook his head.

"The farmhouse wasn't," Angela said triumphantly, waving one of the papers, "and according to this they had it connected to the Leesburg water supply when they switched to indoor plumbing in the fifties."

"Of course," Hodgins was typing again, "I forgot to factor in the road name changes since the development was put in."

"Does it match?" Cam wanted to know.

"Yes!" a large grin split the bug man's face, "Soil and water both match and the coordinates are only fifteen miles off."

"You get that?" Booth asked Perotta.

"Old farmhouse, new development," the other agent summarized, "We'll get a team out there."

There was a crack of thunder that shook the house, killing the phone line and causing the lights to flicker around them.

"Booth," Angela sounded worried, a look of horror on her face as the paper in her hand trembled, "It says here that there was also a fallout shelter underground that was hooked up to the water."

Booth swore, trying in vain to reconnect with Cam and Perotta and failing. A look passed between the four of them.

"Max, come with me," he ordered, "You two stay here."

No one argued.

When he and Max fought through the rain and got to the SUV, Booth tried raising Perotta on the radio, but the lines were clogged with static from the electrical storm raging around them and he doubted that the dispatcher had even heard him. Punching the address into the GPS, Booth peeled out of the driveway and sped off, praying that they wouldn't be too late.


	20. Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 20: Out of the Frying Pan…

The sudden onset of darkness paralyzed her for only a few seconds even as her other senses began to compensate. She stumbled into a table when she moved, but was able to use it to orient herself in the room. Seven days of captivity in the two rooms had given her time enough to be familiar with the layout and once she had a reference point, she could move with relative confidence.

The bedroom was her first destination Unable to determine whether or not the outage was deliberate, she had nevertheless decided that retrieving her shoes would be a wise idea; if nothing else than to protect her feet against injury in the dark.

Her bare toes had just registered the transition of cool tile to plush carpet when there was a noise behind and to her right. The darkness revealed nothing as she whirled toward the sound, senses on edge. She stood motionless, eyes and ears straining vainly to distinguish anything in the pitch black.

"Going somewhere, Temperance?" she started at the sound, taking note that Hairston's voice was coming from somewhere inside of the faux lab.

Wishing she had had the foresight to grab one of the sharp implements from the tray on the lab table, she groped in the dark for anything to use in her defense. His footsteps were calm and metered as her hand wrapped around her shoe. She felt a momentary burst of triumph as she flung it in the direction of the footsteps and heard it collide against something soft.

A startled cry came in response, giving her enough time to feel for something eels. This time she found a small, cylindrical object; the miniature flashlight that had been in her pocket at the time of her abduction.

"That was uncalled for, Dr. Brennan," Hairston clucked his tongue as his footsteps drew nearer once again, "I should shoot you just for that."

"But you won't," her response was immediate, belying nothing of the adrenaline coursing through her.

"Indeed," he was within ten feet of her now and closing.

"Yes," she spoke more confidently than she felt, "because I can prove that you did not murder your daughter and given enough time, I will be able to tell you who did."

"Time," Hairston scoffed, no longer advancing, "Unfortunately for you, time is not a commodity I currently possess."

"You're dying," she concluded aloud, "That's why you actively sought me out after so many years had passed."

"Do you know," he asked, voice trembling with pent up frustration, "how many times I asked them to reopen the case? To give her a modicum of the justice she deserved? But they didn't listen!

"When I told them that there were others who were being killed just like Lily they laughed in my face. Told me to go home and move on with my life," he gave a derisive laugh, "My home died with Lily."

Silence fell between them and while she couldn't condone his methods for procuring the truth, she could empathize as a fellow parent. The mention of shooting her stirred up concern, as in her experience people who were dealing with emotional trauma could not be counted upon to use weaponry responsibly.

"Why me?" she inquired honestly, attempting not to further inflame his grievances, "Why exhume the bones and send them to me?"

His response was almost immediate, "Because unlike the inept police force, you are a rational, intelligent individual who could 'use science and reason over crude guesswork and haphazard detecting.'"

The wording sounded familiar to her but she could not remember its source, nor was she given the opportunity.

"As I said, however, Dr. Brennan, time is not on my side as it were," he sighed heavily, "I had hoped that you would stay willingly, however I have been found out, and as you have deduced that I am still in need of your investigative techniques you will need to be relocated once more. Now-"

Before he could finish she took advantage of his inattention, lunging forward and turning the flashlight on and aiming for his eyes. His arms flew forward to block the light and she realized that he was wearing some sort of night-vision apparatus. Quickly, she knocked the mask off of his face, sending it clattering across the floor and shut off the narrow beam of light.

Once again, she was in darkness, but he was as well now and that would be to her advantage. A shot rang out and she flinched, ducking involuntarily and thankful when she heard the bullet ping off of the table on the other side of the room. With outstretched arms she found the wall and followed it, reasoning that it would eventually lead her to the portal he had entered through.

Another shot. And another. Each one closer to her than the one before.

She accelerated her search, pulse hammering in her ear. Finally the smooth wall gave way to a narrow passageway and she stumbled through, eyes fixing on the pale strip of light that illuminated the ladder at the dead end. Strong hands grabbed at her from behind and she went on the defensive, sweeping her leg around to connect with Hairston's knees and lowering her center of gravity as much as possible.

While he didn't topple, it was enough to dislodge his grip and her next blow sent the pistol he was wielding spinning back into blackness of the lab. She turned toward the ladder, but was jerked off as she began her assent and found herself on the hard floor facing him. The meager light caught his cold blue eyes as they flashed with anger and her head snapped back suddenly as his closed fist collided with her jaw.

She tasted blood, head pounding as he pulled her forward. Unable to break away from his grasp she allowed him to haul her to her feet and pull her toward his body without resistance. His hands were still clutching each of her arms as she drove her knee into his mid-section. Without a backward glance, she took off up the ladder and toward the light.


	21. And Into the Fire

Chapter 21: …And Into the Fire

For at least the fifth time since they'd started Booth cursed the weather.

"That's not going to change anything," Max commented idly.

"Might make me feel better," Booth grumbled.

The older man shrugged his shoulders and went back to staring out the window. Lightning streaked across the sky as a thunderclap shook the SUV. The wipers moved like a metronome on steroids, barely keeping the windshield clear enough for Booth to see out of.

Fortunately, there were few other idiots traveling in a thunderstorm in the wee hours of the morning, save for the truckers who were big enough for him to see and smart enough to give him leeway once they saw the lights and heard the siren. Every few minutes he'd turn the scanner and the radio on, but all that greeted him was static, so there was still no way for him to contact Perotta.

The know-it-all voice from the GPS told him to turn right, so he did, supposing that he should be thankful that at least _that_ was working still. He gripped the wheel with one hand, flipped the phone open with the other, and tried to dial Perotta again. Zip.

"Max, what the hell?" he yelped, noting that his passenger had pulled out a narrow copper pipe that came to a sharpened point at one end.

Max shrugged, polishing the thing with an oiled cloth he'd pulled out of who knew where before offering, "Be prepared."

"You're no Boy Scout," he told his father-in-law, "and you are _not_ going to be using that thing!"

The set in Max's jaw said that he'd do whatever he wanted, so Booth threw him a stubborn look of his own and they called it even. Thing was, he wasn't all that sure he cared whether Max used the dagger or not. Inside the fiercely protective part of him was warring with the responsible federal agent and it was anyone's guess at this stage as to who would come out to play once they got there and assessed the situation.

"Turn left," the voice instructed again, "Destination in one point two miles."

His lip turned up at the corners at the preciseness of the calculation, thinking that was something Bones would appreciate. Of course, once he turned down the dirt driveway and was close he saw that he wasn't alone.

"Looks like we're late to the party," Max said drily.

Booth pulled to a stop beside one of the five other SUVs gathered and shot Max a look, "Stay put. Or at the very least put that thing away before anybody sees it."

With an eye roll worthy of his daughter, Max pocketed the makeshift dagger, not moving an inch as Booth hopped out. Dodging the rain and the worst of the puddles and thinking he shouldn't have worn his favorite sneakers, he made his way over to the farmhouse's porch where Perotta's team huddled against the rain.

"What are you doing here?" Perotta demanded when he'd gotten up the steps.

"Was in the neighborhood," he told her, "Where's Bones?"

She shook her head and frowned, "We've canvassed the property. No sign of them and nobody's lived in the house in decades."

"That empty?"

"Gives a whole new meaning to the term 'dust bunny.'"

"Look, Angela says there's a fallout shelter a quarter of a mile back that way," Booth pointed into the woods, "That's why I came."

Perotta's head shot up and she started ordering her agents around, warning them to be careful. Booth started to follow them.

"Uh uh," Perotta shook her head, "Thanks for the tip, but we'll take it from here."

Booth clenched his fists at his side, hating that she was right. He watched as she led the group into the woods, waited until she was far enough away, then trailed them from a good distance.

"Want company?" Max muttered, coming up from behind.

Booth gave a curt nod, knowing he couldn't keep Max in the SUV any more than Perotta could keep him on the porch. Up ahead, the group of agents slowed, guns at the ready as they searched in the rainy dark for the trapdoor. One of the agents lifted a hand and the group moved in around him. Through the rain, Booth could just make out the door's silhouette, propped open, a small light coming out of it.

B&B&B&B&B&B&B

The cold steel of the rungs bit into her bare feet, but she pressed on, unsure of how long her last blow would keep Hairston down. She heard a shuffling noise at the bottom and increased her speed, slipping here and there as water dripped down on her from above.

At the top, she found that she had emerged in a grove of maple trees. Lightning split the sky, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand straight up even as the thunder clap crashed. While unsure of where she was, she was very sure that she did not want to be standing beside any trees should the lightning strike.

The next bolt illuminated enough of the landscape for her to catch a glimpse of a group of houses off in the distance on the other side of the trees. Electing to take her chances in the storm versus facing Hairston again, she set off for the neighborhood.

Rain pelted her face while the wind whipped her hair in all directions. She thought she heard a male voice calling out and she quickened her pace. Her toe slammed into a root, wrenching her ankle and propelling her forward and into the mud.

Hissing in pain but determined not to cry out and give away her position, she attempted to get back on her feet, but failed. Maneuvering herself into the shelter of one of the larger trees, she sat, waiting for the worst of the storm to dissipate. Time passed, though she was in no condition to ascertain how long she sat there. Above her, lightning flashed again, but this time the thunder was later in coming, indicating that the electric storm was moving on. The rain, however, was not, and she slipped several times trying to regain her footing on the slick surface.

Fairly certain that the distal phalanx on her right foot was broken, she was thankful for the adrenaline surge to keep the pain at bay as she moved forward once more. Movement in the woods from where she had come from spurred her on, though her progress was slow and at times she thought she might pass out from the pain shooting up her leg. Mud squirted through her toes, splashing her pants, though it hardly mattered as her clothes were plastered to her body from the rain coupled with her earlier fall.

She was nearly to the edge of the trees when she felt more than saw the shadowy presence behind her. Arms reached out for her and she just barely skirted them, limping even faster. Just a few more feet and she would be close enough to call for help. Behind her, the footsteps were so near she could hear them through the rain.

At the grass on the edge of the trees, her feet welcomed the relative comfort- then slid from beneath her at the slickness, dropping her once again to the ground. The arms were around her before she could stop them this time and she yelled at the top of her lungs, praying someone would hear her.

B&B&B&B&B&B&B

Unease filled Booth's gut as he watched Perotta go down through the trapdoor.

"She's not there," Max voiced his thoughts, "Why leave the door open if he's got her trapped?"

Nodding, Booth weighed his options: he could call out, risk alerting Hairston that they were out there, or he could head out on his own with Max. He chose Max and the two set out. The storm raged around them, giving brief insights into the dark places between the trees. He knew from Angela's research that the grove they were in was on a hill overlooking the new development.

"Think she'd head for the houses?" he asked as they paused for breath.

"If she's not with him, it's our best shot," Max agreed, "Do we split up?"

"Keep within eyesight," he nodded, knowing they could cover more ground.

Of course, as soon as Max moved away he was swallowed up by the trees and the rain.

Booth was glad that the lightning had died down, though, and he started scanning the trees in front of him for any sign of Hairston or Bones, not letting himself think about what the psycho could've done with her by now. His tracker instincts took over, though visibility was still minimal given the rain.

Up ahead of him, he saw movement and when he looked again, he knew it was Bones. Waterlogged and limping, she was moving along through the trees. He called out, but that seemed to spook her as she tried moving faster. He jogged faster and was within arm's reach of her when she suddenly twisted away, obviously mistaking him for Hairston. He called her name again, but again she either didn't hear him, or couldn't understand him.

He winced as she slipped on the wet grass and moved quickly to help her up. She screamed as his arms went around her.

"Bones," he spoke directly into her ear as he lowered himself to the ground and pulled her into his chest, "Shh. It's okay, Bones, I've got you. You're safe now."

He continued murmuring in her ear until she no longer strained against him, her head burying itself in his chest as he held her close.

"Booth!" Max's voice sounded loudly over the rain.

"I've got her," he yelled back.

Almost instantly, Max was above them, helping him get Bones to her feet as Booth got to his. He was worried that she hadn't said anything since her cry for help; depending how long she'd been in the rain and how badly she was injured she could be slipping into shock.

"Hang in there, Bones," he said softly as he scooped her into his arms, "I've got you."

Her body turned in toward him and he thought he saw her head nod in response, but couldn't be sure. Max shot him a concerned look and they set off as quickly as they could back through the grove to the farmhouse.


	22. Healing

Chapter 22: Healing

Her rest was disjointed and unsettling. There were brief moments when she was aware that she was in a bed, in a hospital somewhere, and that Seeley was at her side; that she was safe. Those moments were fleeting, however, and gave way to nightmarish dreams in which she was running, always running, but never getting anywhere. The variation of that nightmare was that she had been recaptured and forced to remain underground indefinitely.

After one particularly vivid nightmare she accepted the oral sedative that was offered, nestled herself in Seeley's arms as he joined her on the bed, and drifted off into a dreamless void.

She was surprised when she finally awoke to find that she was alone in the bed and that Seeley had been replaced with a different sentinel.

"Morning, Sweetheart," her father smiled widely at her, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly in relief.

"It's not morning," she replied, pointing to the afternoon sun, which had long-since reached its apex.

"Good to see you're back with us," her father smirked, "and before you ask, I sent that man of yours home to shower and change; though I'm guessing he'll be back any time now."

She nodded, stretching, and was pleased when everything but her feet responded to her commands pain free.

"Would you pass that to me, please?" she indicated the chart hanging at the end of the bed.

For a second, she thought he was going to refuse, but instead he merely let out a sigh and handed it to her.

"The doctor said your feet were pretty torn up," he pointed out sympathetically.

"Yes," she grimaced, "I wasn't wearing my shoes at the time of the power outage and was never able to retrieve them."

"You always did go around barefoot," he chuckled, no doubt attempting to ameliorate the gravity of her injuries with an anecdote, "Got that from your mom."

"I doubt that a disinclination to footwear is genetic," she shook her head, granting him a small smile, then peered at the file he'd handed her, "It appears that I was correct about my distal phalanx, though I'm pleased to see that the ankle wound was superficial, and the lacerations to my feet did not require stitches. Good, there should be no reason to hold me here any further."

Her father opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a group of incoming visitors. To her disappointment, it was not Seeley and Sadie, but rather Angela, Jack, and Cam who entered, though she did her best to smile and hide her disappointment.

Angela, of course, made a great fuss about Temperance's current state as well as how much they had missed her over the past week, and it reminded her how good it felt to be cared for by such a good friend. Cam was less flamboyant, but just as caring, and encouraged her to take as much time off from work as necessary to heal. Jack was last to approach her, but the watery look in his eyes and the firmness with which he embraced her spoke volumes.

A nurse came to check her vitals, informing her that the doctor would be making his rounds within the hour. Shortly thereafter, the trio of visitors took their leave, promising to visit again the next day.

"I'm gonna take a leak," Max pointed to the adjoining bathroom once her guests had gone.

She nodded and for the first time since she had been admitted, she was alone in the room. Carefully, she pulled herself free of the covers and inspected her injuries firsthand. It was not surprising that the first two toes on her right foot had been taped together firmly, allowing the broken phalanx to be held in place. Her movements were stiff, but she managed to bend her knees far enough to, pull away the gauze and scrutinize the bottoms of her feet.

As she expected, they were littered with cuts, but nothing ran deep and she estimated that they would heal relatively quickly. Her right ankle was somewhat tender, but seemed able to support her as she tested putting weight on it. Cautiously, she stood up, wincing slightly at the pain from her feet, but otherwise feeling little more than a lingering stiffness.

"Mommy!" she heard Sadie exclaim as the little girl burst into the room, running straight into her arms.

Ignoring the pain, she opened her arms to her daughter and held her tightly, inhaling the sweet scent of Sadie's soft curls. Backing them both toward the bed, she sat down and took Sadie into her lap, and rocked her like she used to when Sadie was toddler.

"Mommy, I missed you so much," Sadie told her, burying her head in Temperance's bosom.

"I missed you, Sadie," she replied, a smile coming to her face as Seeley appeared in the doorway, "I missed both of you."

Gray eyes connected with brown over the young girl's head as the couple shared a private moment.

"Where's Max?" he wanted to know.

Before she could answer, her father emerged from the restroom, smiling as he saw who had arrived. The two men shook hands.

"We got you a present, Mommy!" Sadie told her, jumping off of her lap and snatching a small bag from Seeley's hand to bring over to her.

Unsure of exactly how to react, she thanked Sadie and opened the bag, pulling out the contents that had been clumsily wrapped in tissue paper.

"I wrapped it all by myself," Sadie beamed with pride.

"I don't doubt that," Temperance smiled gracefully, peeling the paper back.

"They're stripy socks," Sadie explained excitedly, "To make your feet happy."

"I see," she hedged, looking to Seeley for help as to the appropriate response.

Seeley gently took the socks from her, indicating that she should extend her foot to him, "Nothin' like a stripy sock to make sore feet happy," he smiled, gently enclosing her left foot in the soft cashmere.

She was reminded of his feet, which still ached on a regular basis from the beatings he had received so many years ago, and realized that this was a practical gift on his part more than a sentimental one.

"Thank you," she smiled genuinely at both of them.

"I'll put the other one on you," Sadie volunteered, making a move toward her right foot.

"Let's leave that one off so the doctor can check her broken toe, okay?" Seeley suggested easily.

"Want me to take Short Stuff home when she's ready?" Max asked as Sadie climbed into her lap once more.

"No," Temperance answered firmly before Seeley could as Sadie's grip tightened around her waist, "Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"Bones," he was asking a question and stating his position all at once, but she shook her head.

"There's nothing that can be done for me here that cannot be done at home," she told him pointedly, "I believe I have been away for long enough."

To her great relief he didn't argue, but instead merely inclined his head and sat down beside her.

"I'll take off then," Max shifted his weight back and forth, finally lifting his head to meet his daughter's eyes, voice thick with emotion, "Get better."

She handed Sadie over to Seeley and stood, shuffling carefully over to where her father stood and meeting his gaze.

"Thank you," she told him, remembering how he too had come after her in the woods.

Before she realized it, he had clutched her to his chest, holding her in much the same fashion as she had held her own daughter; they was he'd one held her as a little girl. Understanding for what he had been through dawned, and she not only allowed him to hold her tight, but reciprocated the embrace as well. His lips brushed the top of her hair and he released her gently. Their eyes held and she heard him whisper, "I love you," as he turned toward the door and left.

Slowly, she returned to the bed, grateful for the distraction as Sadie clambered back into her lap and began filling her in on all of the events, large and small, that had taken place over the past week. It appeared that Sadie had not gone to school since Tuesday, but had instead spent much of her time either with "Grandpa Max" or "Aunt Angie" during the day. Temperance assured the girl that she had received the rainbow picture that had been painted for her and that it had lifted her spirits as Sadie had intended.

Toward the end of Sadie's monologue, the doctor arrived on his rounds to appraise her condition. Upon his announcement that her injuries seemed to be healing satisfactorily, she thanked him cordially for the care she had received, then informed him in no uncertain terms that she would leaving this afternoon with or without his professional consent. The man seemed as if he would fight her on the issue until Seeley took him aside and muttered something to him too low for her to overhear.

Whatever he said, it was effective enough for the doctor to nod vigorously and inform them that he would have her discharge papers drawn up within the hour. The couple thanked him as he left. The next hour consisted of several nurses bustling in and out, taking last minute readings and doling out instructions on how to care for her injuries. She changed into the clean clothes Seeley had brought for her from home and allowed him to wheel both she and Sadie down to the parking lot.

Three hours, four stories, and innumerable assurances that she would be there in the morning later, Sadie was in bed and the couple was alone for the first time in a week. Seeley helped her up the stairs and into their room, where she could finally relax. More fatigued than she originally thought, she welcomed the darkness as he turned off the light.

Safely ensconced in his arms, she met his eyes, illuminated by the moonlight and spoke the three words that she'd been anxious to voice ever since she'd awakened in the hospital, "Tell me everything."


	23. Everything but the Kitchen Sink

Chapter 23: Everything but the Kitchen Sink

One of Seeley Booth's major weaknesses had always been his inability to stand idly by when people he cared for suffered. It was what had driven him to bail his brother out time and again. Why he'd carried Teddy Parker away from danger even though he couldn't save him. And why he'd hopped a plane to New Orleans early one morning after a late-night call from his new partner despite her claim that everything was "fine."

So when his wife- who had spent twenty of the first twenty-four hours after she'd been rescued fighting off hellish dreams that had taken meds to suppress and allow her to sleep- entreated him to tell her everything, he'd been unable to deny her the truth. Thankful that it was too dark for her to read his face, he'd held her in his arms and slowly told her everything that had occurred after he'd watched his SUV explode in front of him.

"What about Hairston?" she asked once he'd gotten as far as her rescue in the woods.

"Not much to tell there," Booth shrugged his shoulders, a grin tugging at his lips, "Perotta's gang found him still whimpering in pain from your parting shot in the access hallway and he's currently cooling his heels at the FBI holding center. Apparently, there was another room in the fallout shelter that he'd been living out of the entire time; plenty of evidence to convict, so my guess is he'll try and cut a deal."

"He's dying," there was a note of sadness in her voice, "That's why he kidnapped me, so that I could find out who killed his daughter before he died."

Booth blew a long breath of air out of his mouth before answering, "Yeah, I know. I'll be the first to admit I'd be tempted to do the same thing in his spot, but it's still breaking the law."

Bones nodded and silence lapsed between them for so long, Booth thought she might've fallen asleep.

"It sounds as if I have all of you to thank for my safe return," she said so quietly he almost missed it.

"Well, you _did_ point us in the right direction," he told her, "But yeah, it wasn't a bad piece of good science and reason with a healthy amount of crude guesswork and haphazard detecting."

"That's the second time I've heard that particular phraseology used in the last three days," he could hear her frown, "and while it sounds familiar, I am unable to identify the source."

"Ah," Booth grinned at the irony, "why those would be the immortal words of the inestimable Dr. Temperance Brennan, whose foresight long ago predicted the death of the gumshoe in favor of the squint."

Her face was a mask of confusion for a fraction of a second before understanding dawned, "The _Forensic Anthropology Today_ article."

"Yup, put you on the map; or at least on Hairston's radar screen."

"Was there a copy of it among his personal effects?" she asked, yawning.

"Oh yeah," Booth grinned, "His stalker wall could give Oliver and Noel a run for their money."

"I'm not sure I _want_ to know what that means," she shook her head.

"Probably not," Booth agreed, "Suffice it to say he'd been a big fan of yours for quite a while."

For a moment, she was silent and he wondered if he should've even said that much.

"Did _you_ have a stalker wall?" she asked out of the blue.

"What? No, Bones! Why would I have one?" he couldn't believe she was seriously asking him if he stalked her, but her face was guileless.

She shrugged, "You obviously harbored a hidden affection for me for several years without my knowledge, so it would be only natural for you to have collected photographs and such without my knowledge."

He thought about the drawer full of newspaper clippings from throughout the years that he kept in his bottom desk drawer at the Hoover and the pictures of the two of them at formal Jeffersonian events from back when they were "just partners" that Angela had slipped to him from time to time.

"I had stuff, yeah," he grudgingly admitted, "but I did _not_ stalk you!"

"I realize that," she said, "I just was curious as to whether you collected things that reminded you of me before we had formalized our romantic relationship."

"Well," he teased, "there was that pair of panties…"

"You're mocking me," she complained, trying to reach around and punch him in the shoulder.

"Never!" he feigned horror, all the while pinning her arms lightly behind her back and leaning in to kiss her.

What started light and funny got hot and heavy quick as their tongues danced for the first time in what felt like forever. He let go his hold on her arms, to explore the rest of her body, reacquainting himself with her curves and the smoothness of her skin.

"God, I missed you," he moaned, suckling her earlobe as she rubbed her soft hands across his back, lovingly tracing his scars as she went.

"How much?" she purred, tracing her finger across the scar on his shoulder before running her fingernail the length of his chest.

"We shouldn't," he shook his head as she pressed against him, knowing his body's actions were speaking louder than his words.

"I'm fine, Seeley," she half-whispered, doing something with her stripy-socked left foot that _he'd_ never thought possible, "And if you try and fight it you'll lose and it won't be half as much fun."

Groaning at how wrong the power she had over him was, he gave in.

There was plenty of passion, though not the frenzied kind, as they rediscovered one another, falling easily back into the dance they'd been doing for years and chasing away the nightmares of the past week, until finally they transcended the laws of physics and became one.

The next morning he woke up smiling at the knowledge that she was home, then frowned as he opened his eyes to discover that he was alone in their bed. Laughter from down the hall set his mind at ease as he threw on sweats and a t-shirt and went to find his girls.

'We're having a tea party, Daddy," Sadie beamed; she and her mother looking like an island in a sea of dolls and stuffed animals, "Wanna come?"

He accepted, hiding a teasing smile at the way Bones was setting everything up like she was expecting the queen or something. He had to bit his tongue even further as she started lecturing Sadie on the etiquette and protocol involved with hosting a formal tea. When the drinks had been poured and the small cookies distributed they all started together.

"Yuk!" Sadie spat the bitter drink back into her cup, "Mommy, maybe hot chocolate would be better for kids."

Bones looked as if she wasn't sure how to react.

"Hey, how 'bout we all head downstairs for pancakes?" Booth suggested.

"And hot chocolate?" Sadie wanted to know.

"With or without marshmallows?" he asked.

"Yay! Marshmallows!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down and dashing for the stairs, "Come on, guys!"

The couple shared a smile and Booth stole a kiss before following Sadie down the steps. Booth and Sadie began mixing the ingredients for the pancakes while Bones made the hot chocolate and set the table. A few minutes later they were each sitting in front of a plate of piping hot pancakes.

"So where're we gonna go today?" Sadie asked around a mouthful of pancake.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth," Bones corrected gently, "and in answer to your question, I don't believe we are going anywhere."

The little girl washed down the rest of the bite with a drink of milk before saying, "Good."

Her small face looked very thoughtful as she continued eating.

"Everything okay, kiddo?" Booth asked.

"Daddy," her nose scrunched up as if she was unsure of something, "is it okay if I don't want to share Mommy with anybody else but us for a little bit?"

"Well," he answered carefully, "Mommy will have to go back to work eventually-"

Bones cut him off with a gentle hand to his arm and addressed Sadie, "That's just fine, Sadie. I don't think I want to be with anyone else for a little bit either. Can we agree, though, that Daddy and I will return to work on Monday and you will return to pre-school?"

"When's Monday?" Sadie asked, "Is that in two bedtimes?"

"In three," Bones smiled, "Today is Friday."

Sadie broke into her pre-school song about the days of the week that was set to the tune of the Adams Family theme song and Booth joined in with a big grin while Bones rolled her eyes at both of them.

"Okay, Mommy," Sadie nodded when the song was over, "we can agree. But ca-_may _I still come to the Jeffers after school?"

"Of course," Bones answered.

"And you won't be taking a kid nap?" she asked, a note of fear in her voice.

"No," Booth answered firmly, but softly, "I'll make sure Mommy stays right where she's supposed to."

"Thanks, Daddy," Sadie stood up from the table, giving him a peck on the cheek before skipping out to the kitchen with her dirty plate.

"I hope," his wife arched an eyebrow at him, "that you are not planning on restricting me to the lab."

"Besides the fact that that would be pointless," he gave her a charm smile, "I wasn't planning on doing any such thing."

"Good."

"However," he raised a finger, "I don't think I'll be leaving you alone in the car any time soon."


	24. Lows and Highs

Chapter 24: Lows and Highs

It was early Friday evening when Temperance picked up the phone to a very agitated Parker on the other end. Rebecca, it seemed, had just informed him that his step-mom was back home and Parker was anxious to see her. Where much of the past weeks' events had been beyond Sadie's level of comprehension, they hadn't been beyond Parker's.

The eleven year old had seen the smoldering remains of his dad's SUV on the news the night of Seeley's heated exchange with Rebecca and had- like his father- spent the night despairing of "Dr. Bones'" demise. Apparently, Parker had been so upset, he had refused to go to school the next morning until Seeley had called with Hodgins' results confirming the lack of human remains.

Now, as he spoke with her on the phone, Parker implored her to be allowed to come over and spend the weekend starting tonight. In the background, she could hear Rebecca scolding him for being rude and telling Parker that he needed to wait until the morning at least. Not for the first since she had gotten married, Temperance felt a surge of frustration and anger at the lack of a custody arrangement between Rebecca and Seeley. In a calm voice, she assured Parker that it was no imposition for him to come that night and that they could be there within the hour to pick him up as long as his mother had no objections.

Temperance found herself having to reiterate the offer to Rebecca directly and arrangements were solidified. Forty minutes later, Parker came bolting out from the doorway where he'd been waiting and wrapped his arms around her waist tightly, repeating again and again how happy he was that she was alive and safe.

When they arrived back home, Seeley charged both children with the task of collecting all of the thick bedcovers in the house and bringing them into the living room. Temperance, then, was assigned the dual duties of building a fire in the living room fireplace and organizing the collected blankets into comfortable sleeping arrangements on the floor. Meanwhile, Seeley took it upon himself to pop popcorn, six hot chocolate, and gather the necessary ingredients for constructing a confectionary treat comprised of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.

Laughter echoed through the house as they ate, played their way through a tall stack of board games, and discussed Seeley's upcoming championship hockey game. The two Booth boys debated hokey strategies, while Sadie made up a list of people she wanted to invite. Reluctantly, Temperance was cajoled into granting the children permission to paint their faces blue and white to match Seeley's team colors, though they were only allowed to paint them just before the game started and she made them wait until morning to begin constructing signs to hold up during the game.

Safely ensconced in the makeshift beds, Parker and Sadie listened raptly as the couple relayed an edited version of her time in captivity and subsequent rescue. Parker thought it was neat how they had all worked together to figure out where she'd been, while Sadie found it sad that the daddy who had taken her away missed his little girl.

Announcing that it was time for bed, Seeley stoked the fire one last time and turned out the lights, double checking too that the doors were locked and the security system was armed. At the same time, Temperance was assailed from both sides as Sadie and Parker captured her in a large hug. They finally released her at Seeley's gentle urging, though Sadie continued to cling to her hand and proceeded to snuggle up against her as soon as she laid down. A chorus of well wishes for the night's repose was voiced and a contented silence descended upon the house.

She awoke the next morning to find Sadie still cuddled up in her arms, smiling when she noted that Parker and Booth had migrated close to each other during the night as well and that while they weren't touching, there was no room between them either. An unexpected wave of nostalgia hit her as she remembered similar "camp outs" with her family on their living room floor when she was a child. Yawning, she determined from the position of the sun that it was no later than six, so she closed her eyes once more and drifted off to sleep.

"Wakey, wakey eggs and bakey," Seeley's far too chipper voice interrupted her peaceful slumber.

"You realize that three-fifths of that sentence is composed of nonsense words?" she groaned, surprised to find as she stretched that she was not as stiff as she had anticipated.

"Mmm," he grinned, hauling her to her feet and pulling her close, "You realize that squint speak in the morning turns me on?"

"Anything early in the morning turns you on," she scoffed teasingly, attempting to slip out of his grasp and failing.

"Good point," he growled in her ear, rubbing his stubble-ridden cheek against her smooth one as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Mommy's up, Park," Sadie's exclamation interrupted them, "She's just kissing Daddy."

"When is she not?" came the response from the kitchen.

"I dunno," Sadie shrugged.

"Smart aleck kids," Seeley grumbled, finally releasing her, "I'll go supervise breakfast."

"A wise choice," she nodded, "I'll be there in a few moments."

"Hey, Daddy," she heard Sadie ask as father and daughter walked back toward the kitchen, "how come you had your hand on Mommy's butt?"

Temperance chuckled as Seeley sputtered through a response and continued walking in the other direction. Apparently he had come up with a satisfactory answer as the topic of conversation had shifted by the time she joined them at the table.

"Is it time to paint our faces now?" Sadie wanted to know as soon as she had finished breakfast.

"Game's not until tonight, Squirt," Parker reminded her, "We'll do our faces after dinner, but we can make the signs now if you want."

"Yes!" Sadie grinned, bouncing up and down excitedly.

"You both need to help clear the table before you begin," Temperance instructed.

Once that was accomplished, the two children began their project in earnest, with the adults checking in on them from time to time to make sure that the paint was going onto the signs instead of onto the wall or anywhere else that it was not supposed to go. Parker did the lettering, while Sadie accented each sign with pictures of hockey paraphernalia. Sadie also made her own, smaller sign that said "Go Daddy!" and had a picture that Temperance presumed was Seeley in his hockey gear.

Since the signs covered the majority of the dining room table, lunch was eaten out in the kitchen. Between bites of grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, Parker and Sadie began to plan out the rest of the day.

"I have a better idea," Seeley interjected as they debated whether they wanted to play Wii Bowling or watch a movie first.

Two heads shot up, giving him their full attention.

"How about we clean up our lunch," this was met by tandem groans, "and we'll get on the computer and talk to Maddie and Joey."

Cheers replaced the groans and they went back to the food, finishing it as quickly as possible.

"When did you set that up?" she murmured as the cleanup process continued around them.

"I called Thursday from the hospital," he gave her a sly grin, "Figured you'd break out of the hospital as soon as you could."

She shook her head, "Of course you did."

"Look," he pulled her aside into the living room, voice low, "Maddie was really upset about the whole thing. Joey was worried too, obviously, but Maddie, she took it hard. I thought about running up there or having them come by train so they could at least spend the weekend, but this last time it was so hard taking them back I didn't want to put any of us through that again. This was the compromise."

"It's a good one," she assured him.

And it was. There were tears on both ends of the connection, but the six of them spent the next two and a half hours talking about everything from the events of the past week to the evening's upcoming hockey game. Conversation then turned to the science fair and Temperance was more than happy to check on their progress and offer advice where needed.

"Can I talk to Mom alone?" Maddie asked as the conversation was drawing to an end.

"Sure thing," Seeley nodded, herding the two children on their end out the door, "We'll talk again next week, okay?"

"Yeah," Maddie smiled shyly.

"Bye, Maddie! Bye, Joey!" Sadie yelled, waving at the camera.

"Bye," Joey waved, walking off camera.

"See you soon, Squirt," Maddie waved to her little sister.

The room fell silent for a moment.

"Are you okay," Maddie asked, "I mean really okay?"

"Yes," Temperance nodded sincerely, "Apart from two very sore feet and a moderately sprained ankle, I'm fine."

"Good," the girl sniffed and looked as if she was going to say something serious but then, "Well, I guess I should get going. Lots of homework and stuff to do."

"Was there something specific you wanted to talk about?" she probed.

"No," Maddie said unconvincingly, "No, I just wanted to make sure you were really okay."

"I am," Temperance assured her once more.

"Good. Well, bye."

"Maddie," she spoke just before the girl severed the connection, knowing there was something she should say but unsure of exactly what that something should be, "Call me if you need anything."

Maddie nodded and waved, then hung up. Temperance went through the motions of powering down the laptop, all the while wondering what subtext she had missed during that last exchange. There was something familiar about Maddie's tone of voice and body language, but she could not deduce exactly what it was, or what she could have done differently.

"Everything alright?" Seeley asked as they began preparing dinner, concern furrowing his brow.

"No," she shook her head, "But I'm not certain what's wrong, either."

"Hey," he brushed her hair back from her left temple and planted a kiss on it, "Don't stress yourself out, Bones. I told you Maddie took everything pretty hard. It had to be tough on her thinking that she might lose you when she's already lost one mom."

"True," she acknowledged, idly mixing the salad components together.

A buzzer sounded, signaling that the potato wedges in the oven were done and putting an end to any further conversation on the topic for the time being. Seeley declared that the burgers, including her veggie one, were done too and called for Sadie and Parker to come to the table.

Excitement and anticipation were running high in the Booth household and by the time they arrived at the hockey arena, it had reached a fever pitch. The entire team from the Jeffersonian had come to root on Seeley and Wendell and by the time the game started, the entire seating area was brimming with fans on either side of the rink.

It became apparent early on that the two teams were evenly matched on both defense and offence. Parker, Sadie, and the Hodgins' children cheered vociferously for Seeley and Wendell, while Cam grinned wolfishly as the aggressive nature of the game became more intense. Very few goals were scored on either side and by the end of the second period, the two teams were tied at two goals apiece.

Seeley won the face-off at the start of the third period and shot the puck to Wendell up by the goal. The athletic anthropologist looked as if he was going to score, but at the last second was cross-checked into the boards by one of the other team's larger players. The referee blew his whistle as the FBI team's supporters booed and ordered the offending player into the penalty box. Shaken, Wendell missed the penalty shot by a quarter of an inch and the rest of the team failed to capitalize on the ensuing power play.

As soon as regular play resumed, Seeley checked the man who had cross-checked Wendell, then stole the puck from him and drove it up the ice. The other team's goalie lunged at the puck as it sailed toward the net, just barely nicking it with his mitt and sending it careening off course. Wendell was right in its path, however, and the crowd erupted as he got control of the puck and took the shot.

This time, his aim was true and the puck slammed into the back of the net before the goalie could reach it. Temperance leapt to her feet with the others, cheering loudly, then sat down as her feet reminded her that they were not in any condition to be jumping around no matter what the circumstance. She watched, fascinated as the momentum shifted in their team's favor.

Far from acting defeated, the other team became even more aggressive, attempting with all of their skill to regain control of the game. The problem, however, was that their teamwork and efficiency suffered as a result and the more they tried to remain competitive, the further the game slipped from their hands.

The final score was six to two in favor of the FBI team.

Three hours, two hoarse children, and one celebratory gathering at Wong Fu's later, they arrived home jubilant, but tired. Sadie insisted on wearing the sweaty jersey that Seeley had given to her after the game to bed, while Parker tried to argue that although he was yawning, he really wasn't ready to sleep yet. His father pointed out that they would be getting up to attend Mass in the morning and remained firm in his decision that it was long past time for Parker to be in bed.

"Congratulations on your cap trick," Temperance greeted her husband as he joined her in bed, referring to the three goals he had scored over the course of the game.

"Hat trick," he corrected gently, "But you were close this time. Did you enjoy the game?"

"It was quite invigorating," she nodded, smiling, "Especially since your team won."

"Never hurts," he agreed, "And speaking of hurting, how did your feet hold up?"

"Well enough as long as I didn't stand on them," she answered truthfully.

"Your ankle's not nearly as swollen as it was the other day," he commented, fingering the injured area gently.

"The sprain was superficial and shouldn't take long to heal," she replied with a shrug, "though the doctor did warn that the bruising on my feet could take longer."

"Feel free to take my stripy socks if you need them," he offered.

"I just might," she smiled back, "They're quite comfortable."

He held her gaze for a long moment and took her hand in his, his fingers running over her wedding and engagement rings, "I'm glad you were there tonight, Bones."

"I enjoyed myself immensely," she told him.

"No," he shook his head slowly, "I mean, I'm glad that you weren't, you know…"

His voice trailed off and she realized he was talking about more than just the hockey game.

"I'm glad too," she spoke softly, "I love you, Seeley."

He smiled down at her, eyes dancing in the moonlight as it filtered in through the darkened window, "I love you too, Temperance. I love you too."


	25. Church and Deep Questions

Chapter 25: Church and Deep Questions

What surprised Booth on Sunday morning was not the fact that he woke up alone in bed, but rather that when he went downstairs he found Bones, Parker, and Sadie gathered around the breakfast table already dressed for church.

"Hi, Daddy," Sadie greeted hi brightly, jumping down from her seat to give him a hug, "Mommy said we have to wait five more minutes before we can wake you up, but now you're up so you can look at my dress."

Booth's sleepy brain was having trouble processing what she'd said, but he smiled and nodded approvingly as the little girl twirled around and around, the bottom part of the dress flaring out as she spun.

"Very pretty," he told her, halting her spin before she made _him_ dizzy.

Sadie giggled and scampered back to her cereal.

"You look nice too, Bones," he said nonchalantly, "Going somewhere special this morning?"

He could've sworn her cheeks flushed for the briefest second when she answered, "As a matter of fact, yes. You informed me that the patrons from the parish you attend provided meals for you and Sadie as well as offering emotional support while I was away, and I thought it would be rude of me not to thank them in person."

"Saying thank you is polite," Sadie put in.

"Yup," Booth agreed, "and so's brushing your teeth so you don't stink up the joint," he wrinkled his nose.

"Race you upstairs!" Sadie challenged Parker, dashing out of the room as quickly as she could.

"No way," Parker took off after her.

"Walk," both Booth and Bones called out uselessly.

"Oh well," he shrugged, turning to her with a grin, "means I can do this."

He pulled her close and kissed her thoroughly.

"You do _that_ whether the children are present or not," she laughed lightly.

"Yeah, but do I do _this-_" he stopped abruptly and stared at her, "_Please_ tell me you were not planning on going to church this way?"

"I wouldn't be forced to had you done laundry while I was away," she said, acting like it was no big deal.

"You say that like you were at Club Med or something, Bones. I _was_ a little busy, you know?" He pulled back slightly and shook his head, "Look, it doesn't matter, but what does matter is that you can't go to Mass like that."

"I was unaware that God had a dress code," she sniffed, "It's not as if anyone will notice that I'm not wearing-"

He cut her off because pretty soon the kids would be coming down and there was no way he still wanted to be having this conversation when they did, "I'll know. So just think of it as a personal favor to me, okay? I'm sure you can hunt up something."

She scowled at him first, then smirked as she finally caught his drift.

"You're not offended," the grin on her face was downright feral now, "You're aroused! Is arousal forbidden in church?"

Footsteps tromped down the stairs and he willed her to keep her voice down.

"Yes. Not good," he hissed, "Go. Change. Now."

She did and within a few minutes she returned, winking slyly at him. Wishing he could go back to bed, or maybe find a comfortable rock to climb under for the day, he cleared his throat and told Sadie and Parker it was time to leave; making sure that his son grabbed all of the stuff he needed to take back to Rebecca's.

All in all, the morning went well. He could tell that Bones wasn't comfortable with all of the old ladies hugging her and welcoming her, but at the same time, she allowed them to do so, adopting the same manner that she reserved for the Jeffersonian's donors at formal banquets, complete with the polite "Thank you" for the meal givers. He was also impressed when she refrained from giving a running critique during the homily, which focused primarily on the parable of the Good Samaritan.

On the way out, however, she did instruct the priest on the proper pronunciation of Samaria, pointing out that its modern-day name was Shomron, and informing him that she had once taken part in a very fascinating dig in that region of the West Bank identifying victims of a Palestinian/Israeli border conflict.

To his credit, the man mustered up a genuine smile and told her that made her a Good Samaritan of sorts to the victims' families. She considered the thought for a long moment, then nodded her agreement and the two said good bye.

"Decided not to cover the 2004 analysis of Samaritan mitochondrial DNA?" he teased as they walked back to her car.

"I didn't believe it to be relative, not to mention Nathaniel had several other people who wished to converse with him," she arched an eyebrow, "Though I'm impressed with your knowledge of it, nonetheless."

"Turns out, I'm not just a pretty face after all," he shot her a charm smile, then wagged a finger at her, "And don't think I didn't notice you throwing around Father Menken's first name like that."

"He's told me numerous times that he doesn't mind," she frowned, "Or would you prefer I call him Dr. Menken?"

"That's at least a little better," he groused, navigating his way through the parking lot, trying not to take out any of the kids that were running around in the process.

"Father Menken's a doctor?" Sadie sounded confused.

"He has a PhD in theology," Bones clarified.

"And a Master's in philosophy," Booth added.

"Oh," Sadie sounded thoughtful, "So he's a doctor like Mommy is?"

"Exactly," Bones sounded pleased that Sadie had come to that conclusion on her own.

"Are you a Master too, Mommy?" she wanted to know.

"She's a Master of Bones!" Parker quipped.

A chuckle went around the car.

"I hold several Master's degrees, Sadie," Bones explained, "As well as multiple doctoral degrees."

"Wow," Sadie was impressed, "Can I do that too some day?"

"If you apply yourself and are a diligent student I see no reason why you could not earn a Masters or a Doctorate," Bones smiled encouragingly.

"I'm gonna be an entomologist like Uncle Jack," Parker declared, "Or a paleontologist; I'm not sure which. I like dinosaurs a lot, but then I wouldn't get to help catch bad guys like you and Dad, Dr. Bones, and catching bad guys is important stuff."

The conversation drifted into the many branches of forensic science that there were to choose from along with a brief history of how forensic anthropology had come into its own over the past decade. The kids started to tune out somewhere around Bones' mini-lecture on the importance of board certification and Booth quickly agreed with her, then shifted the topic to a more kid-friendly one.

Far too soon, they reached Rebecca and Drew's townhouse and had to drop Parker off. Bones got out of the car with him and gave her step-son one last hug before he grabbed his bags and headed inside. Booth hid a smug grin as the boy brushed past Drew with barely any acknowledgement and was up in his bedroom window waving vigorously by the time Booth backed out of the driveway and onto the road. He beeped the horn and all three of them waved back at Parker.

Lunch was eaten at the Diner and they spent the rest of the afternoon at the park alternating between the playground, the merry-go-round, and the walking path until the sun started dipping low in the western sky.

"How come Parker has two mommies and daddies?" Sadie asked as they pulled into the garage.

"We've told you before-" Bones started, stopping when he held his hand up and shot her a look.

He turned off the engine and got out, walking around to Sadie's side and opening the door.

"Hey," he smiled, hunching down until he was at her level, "feeling lonely, Kiddo?"

"It's not fair," Sadie's lower lip hung out, "Parker gets two mommies and two daddies, and Maddie and Joey do too, plus they get to see each other."

"You get to see Parker when they don't," Booth pointed out, unbuckling her and scooping her into his arms, "and you get to stay in the same house."

"I know," she hung her head, eventually letting it rest on his shoulder as he carried her into the house.

She yawned widely in his arms and he carried her upstairs to her bedroom. Sliding her little dress shoes off of her feet, he wrapped her up in the covers, smiling as she reached out for her dolphin. He picked the worn stuffed animal up off of the floor and handed it to her.

"Daddy," she yawned again, "will you stay with me 'til I fall asleep?"

"Sure thing," he nodded, easing himself down to the floor and brushing a stray curl out of her face.

"Everything okay in here?" Bones asked, peering around the open door.

Sadie nodded her head, "Will you stay too, Mommy?"

"Of course," Bones smiled tenderly.

Sadie lay quiet for several minutes and Booth thought she might have drifted off to sleep when she suddenly asked, "When I'm in Kindergarten will I have to leave sometimes too?"


	26. Who Wears the Pants?

Chapter 26: Who Wears the Pants?

It turned out that Temperance was more tired than Sadie. One minute she was halfway on Seeley's lap, waiting for Sadie to fall asleep, after they'd assured her that she would not be sent away once she started Kindergarten, and the next she was being set gently on their bed.

"How long was I asleep?" she yawned.

"Twenty minutes tops," he shrugged, "I thought Sadie was never gonna get to sleep for a while there."

She nodded as silence dropped like a curtain between them. Simultaneously, they were transported back in time three and a half years. The ink had barely had time to dry on their marriage license when they'd been thrust into hiding with Parker and the three Lane children. Cut off from the majority of the world for the better part of a month, the six of them had bonded in a way that Dr. Temperance Brennan could never have conceived beforehand and couldn't deny afterward.

When the danger had passed, however, the couple had been left with a difficult decision: Find a way to retain custody of the Lane children or release them to foster care. Neither one of them was willing to release custody, but at the time they were newlyweds without a house and whose work ethics would not mesh with taking on three children; nor did they have the proper resources to help the older two through all of the changes that had taken place in their young lives.

The solution, then, was to enroll the older two in the Milton Hershey School, where their physical and emotional needs could be cared for and to adopt Sadie as their own, since she was far too young for school and would otherwise be forever separated from her siblings. During the summers and holiday breaks, Maddie and Joey would live with the Booths.

The first summer had been stressful as they all tried to figure out what their roles in the household were and some days the only thing that saved the marriage end of their relationship was their partnership at work. In the end, cases were solved and the children survived, but a huge sigh of relief was breathed by all when school went back in session.

The second summer, the tension lessened, with everyone much more cognizant of their rolls with in the household, but there was still a feeling of reprieve when fall came. This past summer had been the most relaxing yet and many tears had been shed when Maddie and Joey had to return to Hershey. Given Maddie's recent odd behavior, along with Sadie's loaded bedtime question, it was no small wonder that doubt as to how they were handling the situation had crept in.

"I believe it's time we addressed the pachyderm in our midst," she broke the silence.

"You mean the elephant in the room?" he chuckled.

"I believe I said that."

"Look, we do," she sensed a caveat, "and we will. But right now, we're both tired, plus we've got something more immediate to figure out."

She lifted a singular, questioning eyebrow at him and awaited elucidation.

"The Lily Hairston case- and all of the other people we found in the mailroom," he said, "Cullen turned it all over to Perotta when you went missing because I was too close to be objective at the time."

"That's a simple issue to address," she scoffed, standing up to change into her sleepwear, "We'll just inform him that your objectivity is no longer in question and that the Jeffersonian will not be aiding in the investigation until we're reinstated."

"Blackmail Cullen?" He sounded incredulous, "My boss? Doesn't sound like too swift a career move for me."

"Blackmailing the FBI has worked in the past," she smiled demurely, "Just let me do the talking."

"You, huh?" a smile played around his lips as she went to remove her dress, "He won't have a snowball's chance in- _HELLO? _That is _not_ your underwear!"

Another demure smile followed by an innocent shrug, "I told you I didn't have any of my own."

"So you decided to wear _mine_? To Mass no less!" he was on his feet, staring her down now.

"It's not as if they held an inspection and _you_ were the one who told me I couldn't go Gestapo," she intentionally misspoke and poked him in the chest, rubbing her cartoon-clad midsection against his in the process.

"Commando," he murmured automatically, though he was far from objecting at this point.

"Whatever," she shrugged lightly, pulling back and moving to climb into bed, "Either way I don't see where there's a problem. Are you coming to bed?"

She watched his eyes travel up and down the length of her legs and smirked at his involuntary shiver. Oh yes, he was coming.

******

Six o'clock came as early as it always did, though Seeley complained just the same. Breakfast was a simple affair with cereal for Sadie and Seeley and whole wheat toast with fresh fruit for Temperance. To no one's surprise, Sadie resisted the idea of going back to school and only relented after hearing the persuasive arguments from both of her parents.

"That," Seeley said as they pulled out of the school parking lot, "was just a warm-up to facing down Cullen."

She nodded absentmindedly, focusing her attention on where she was driving. Beside her, Seeley fidgeted nervously, no doubt anxious about the upcoming meeting with Cullen, coupled with his irritation at not having his government-issued vehicle.

"Stop," she told him as he continued pushing the numerous buttons in the car to pass the time, "we'll be there soon."

"The belt's chafing my neck," he whined, "and I'm bored."

"You're impatient," she corrected, "and you are acting worse than the four children combined."

"Do you have any idea how much paperwork I'm in for to get another car?" he shook his head, blowing air out of his lips in a rush, "A lot. I'm lucky there's no formal inquiry either because _that _would be no picnic, lemme tell you! Either way, it's not going to be pretty."

"It's not as if you could have done anything to prevent it," she pointed out, "And the man responsible is in custody."

"Yeah, but you're a civilian; a civilian under _my_ protection," he was taking this personally, "Uncle Sam isn't too happy when their best assets get kidnapped right under an agent's nose."

"Is an asset a step above a citizen or below?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Ha ha."

"You don't sound amused."

"I'm not."

"It wasn't your fault," she reiterated.

"But to a certain extent it _was_, Bones," he shook his head, "And now it's time to face the music."

"I've never understood that figure of speech," she shook her head.

Seeley ignored her and began incessantly tapping on the passenger door's arm rest. Shaking her head, she pulled up to the FBI parking garage and was waved in when Booth flashed his ID.

"When do I get one of those?" she asked as they stepped on the elevator.

"One of whats?" he asked, "A gun? Never."

"So you say," she rolled her eyes, "But I was referring to your FBI identification card. One would think after seven years that I rank slightly higher than a visitor's pass."

"You don't need a badge, Bones, you've got me," he grinned, leaning over to peck her.

She dodged the kiss, slipping into the waiting elevator car, "So now you're my gun and my badge?"

"Always have been, always will," he crowed triumphantly.

She decided not to justify that statement with a response as they rode up to Cullen's office.

"Booth," she smirked as she stepped out ahead of him, "just let me do the talking and try and keep up, okay?"


	27. Truth and Consequences

Chapter 27: Truth and Consequences

She wasn't doing half-bad, Booth thought to himself as he watched his wife square off against Cullen. In fact, the tight web of logic she was weaving made him wonder how long she'd been thinking this argument through.

Cullen, for his part, was leaning back in his chair listening, his face displaying all the emotion of a Vulcan. When she finished the room grew still and Cullen sat up, crossing his arms across his chest for effect.

"Much as I don't want to watch the good relations that have existed between the FBI and the Jeffersonian over the past seven years deteriorate," the director said, "We have a problem as far as Agent Booth's availability is concerned."

"What-" Bones started.

"Sorry I'm late to the party, Cherie," Caroline burst through the doorway, "Did I miss anything important?"

Booth groaned, sinking lower into his seat.

"Well hello to you too, Seeley Booth," the prosecutor shook her head, "Ready to test out those secretary skills I know you've been hidin'?"

"Oh, Booth's not a secretary," Bones corrected," He types with only two fingers. I, on the other hand, can type very-"

"Not what she's talking about, Bones," Booth hissed behind his now tepid cup of coffee.

Bones brought her own cup up to her mouth before hissing back, "Then what _is_ she referring to?"

"Might as well share with the whole class," Caroline stepped in between their two chairs, laying a meaty hand on Booth's shoulder, "Havin' those cups in front of your mouths just makes you look silly." She looked at Cullen, shaking her head, "You'd think a _genius_ scientist would know somethin' about how sound travels."

"I do, actually, a lot of somethings," Bones told Caroline, then turned back to him, "What do you need to share?"

"I-" he started before Cullen mercifully cut him off.

"Agent Booth was told that if he was anywhere near where the retrieval effort was once we located you, Dr. Brennan, that he would be assigned to desk duty with Ms. Julian here for the next six months," Booth couldn't read the expression on his boss' face, but it didn't sound good for him.

"That's ridiculous!" Bones was immediately on the defensive, "Agent Perotta would not have known about the fallout shelter if Booth hadn't driven through the storm to tell her. A storm, I might add, which severed communications lines between them necessitating his trip in the first place."

Cullen raised an eyebrow, "I know my people don't have IQs like yours, Dr. Brennan, but from all accounts the hidden door was already propped open from your earlier escape. Not to mention the fact that Agent Booth ignored Perotta- the _agent in charge_- by following her into the woods."

"He was attempting to locate me and had no contact with Hairston at all," Bones protested fairly calmly given the topic.

"Which is why he still has his job," Cullen nodded, "You two need to get it into your heads that the ends do _not_ justify the means no matter what the circumstances are; otherwise, I may as well walk down to Holding and let Benjamin Hairston go free."

Bones glared at Cullen, then shifted her gaze to Caroline, "How many steamboats?"

"Excuse me?" the prosecutor held out the first word.

"How many steamboats will it take to persuade you to deviate from your present course?" Bones asked in her negotiation voice.

"Uh uh," Caroline shook her head, "We are nowhere near Christmas and you two are nowhere near as dense as you used to be- well, at least not in that area. Have you not been listening to what Director Cullen is tellin' you?"

She gave them each a good long stare, finally settling back on Bones, "The two of you are good- great even- but you are _not_ your own personal Justice League no matter who you always dress up as at Halloween."

There was a pregnant silence as the partners considered what had been said. Guilt nagged at Booth because he knew Caroline and Cullen were right and that he and Bones had disregarded protocol- not to mention the law- quite a few times throughout their partnership.

"Now," Caroline's voice softened just a tiny bit, "as the prosecuting attorney, I see no problem with Dr. Brennan and her people figuring out who killed the skeletons in their closet as long as she doesn't go anywhere near the Benjamin Hairston evidence."

"What about Booth?" Bones wanted to know.

"Unless you two become Siamese twins overnight, Booth starts working for me tomorrow morning," Caroline spoke in no uncertain terms.

"I won't work without Booth," Bones said petulantly, "You cannot force me to."

"True," Cullen spoke up, "But we can seek the services of another forensic anthropologist. Remains can just as easily be shipped across the country as to the Jeffersonian."

He took a long, hard look at Bones, "You can either work with Agent Perotta, or hand all of your notes and evidence over to her. It's your choice."

There was a finality in Cullen's voice that let Booth know they'd been dismissed.

"Com' on, Bones," he said gently, helping her stand on her still-tender feet.

They were almost at the door when she suddenly turned back around and addressed Cullen.

"Will you require him to serve the full six months?" she asked.

"That, Dr. Brennan, depends entirely upon the two of you."


	28. Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Chapter 28: Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Coping with sudden change was not her forte and Temperance could feel her legs weaken underneath of her as the shock of Deputy Director Cullen's announcement. With his hand firmly in place on her lower back, Seeley guided her through the building and into his office, where he closed the door and pulled the blinds down for privacy.

Before she realized what was happening, his arms were enfolding her, lips brushing the top of her hair as he muttered over and over that everything would work out just fine. The emotional toil was akin to what she'd felt so many years ago in McVicar's barn and she allowed herself to be held now as she had then.

In her mind, she replayed the conversation several times, considering if she could have done anything differently to yield a more favorable result when she realized something.

"You did nothing," she accused Seeley, looking him straight in the eyes, "You said nothing; you did nothing. Why?"

The resounding silence perturbed her and abruptly she stepped out of his arms, pushing aside any lingering vulnerability.

"If you'll excuse me," she said formally, "I need to get back to my lab."

"Hey," he finally spoke, catching her arm, "There was no use fighting it."

"You _knew_ this would happen," she could hear the resignation in his voice and lashed out against his chest with her fists, "You _knew_ and you didn't tell me!"

He caught her flailing fists in his hands and caressed them gently.

"I thought it _could_ happen," he nodded sadly, "but I didn't know if it _would_."

"Well it has," she spat, making him the focus of her anger, "I hope you're proud of yourself!"

"Look," he forced her chin over to meet his eyes, "they could've thrown the book at me but they didn't. Telling you wouldn't have made a difference one way or the other and this way both of us weren't stressing over it."

Their eyes held, the anger, frustration, and sadness passing between them.

"Cullen could've threatened to put me in jail for the rest of my life and I would've done the exact same thing," he told her sincerely, "Nothing could've kept me on that porch that night."

"Why?" she shook her head.

"For the love of the girl, of course," a rueful grin played at his lips, diffusing the tension.

"Alpha male," she muttered back.

"You're worth it, Temperance," his voice was low, all teasing set aside.

She felt heat rising in her cheeks under his tender gaze, moving ever so closer to him as he captured her lips with his.

"What do we do now?" she whispered against his cheek when they parted, still feeling slightly lost.

"We grab my paperwork and head over to the lab so that you can get started on your case," he said matter-of-factly, "At noon I'll drag you to the Diner for lunch and at three I'll pick up Sadie so we can hang out in your office until you're done."

"And tomorrow?" she asked, already knowing and hating the answer.

His smile was sad, "You'll go to the lab while I'll find out just how many circles of hell Caroline's prepared for me."

"I don't like not working with you," she folded her arms across her chest.

"I'm not jumping up and down either, Bones," he frowned.

"You don't seem very upset," she said, frustrated that he was handling the situation far more calmly than she was.

"First of all, if we're gonna hash this out here, sit down," he ordered, pulling up a chair.

"I'm fine," she lied.

"You keep shifting your weight back and forth on your feet and wincing," he pointed out, taking her arm and guiding her to the chair, "Sit."

She did so, glaring at him but unable to deny the relief she felt getting off of her feet.

"That wasn't too hard, was it?" he teased, wheeling his own chair around to her side of the desk so that he was beside her. "Okay, I guess it doesn't bother me as much, first of all because I knew something could happen so I had time to get used to the idea.

"Do I hate the fact that Cullen for all intents and purposes split us up? Yeah. Do I think that you and I could solve this case quicker together than apart? You bet. Pertotta's got good instincts, though, and she knows how to treat you squints right, so in that way, you're in good hands. Plus, she knows that if anything happens to you in the field she'll answer to me, so she'll bring her A-game."

Temperance nodded; though her preference too would be to work with Booth, she had to grudgingly admit that Perotta was a capable agent as well.

"Remember, Bones, all they've done is put our partnership on pause for a little bit," he caught her hand in his once more, "You and me though, we're way beyond just partners."


	29. Passing the Torch

Chapter 29: Passing the Torch

It was nearly ten by the time they made it over to the lab and on the way, Bones managed to negotiate a one o'clock lunch out of him. Judging from the sympathetic looks the couple received as they journeyed to her office, booth would bet his next paycheck that news of the partner's split had preceded them. That was fine with him, in a way, because it meant that they could avoid at least some of the inevitably awkward conversations and a few well-aimed glares from him as they breezed through let people know that this was _not_ the time to ask questions.

Fortunately, Bones was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she missed the looks; sympathetic and otherwise. When they reached her office she sat down at her desk, gathering a stack of papers around her and acting for all the world as if she'd never been gone.

A furrow creased her brow as she searched her desk and when she didn't find the file she was looking for she got on the phone to Hodgins and asked for it, along with everything else that she'd sent to the lab from Hairston's hideaway. Her computer hummed to life and soon the rapid click of her typing filled the silence.

Taking that as a cue, Booth settled down on the couch with his own paperwork, grimacing at the prospect. Apart from the vehicle requisition forms, there was his incident report to file from the night of the explosion and one for the night of her rescue too. If he managed to finish those, he also had a stack of papers he'd grabbed out of his in-box at the FBI to wade through.

Hodgins popped in shortly after Booth started, bearing the box of original evidence from the Lily Hairston case. The two squints immediately started in on the techno-babble, making it fairly easy for Booth to tune them out and focus on his own work. The bug man, however, was only the first in the long line of squints and squinterns who paraded in and out of her office, making him wonder how she was getting anything done.

With half an ear, he listened as reports on the remains flooded in, along with soil sample results from each of the exhumed coffins. DNA results were still trickling in too and Bones and Angela spent an hour matching the last of the face and remains to their identities. Without even trying, his mind filtered through all of the info, looking for that crucial nugget that would link all of the mail room skeletons together.

"Hairston," the obvious answer came to him as the waited for lunch.

"Hmm?" she looked up from her glass of water, confused.

"The thing that links everyone together is Hairston," he explained.

"But he's not the killer," she pointed out.

"Doesn't matter," he shook his head, "Hairston saw something; something we didn't. Why go to the trouble of digging up _those_ bones and send them otherwise? All we need to do is get him to tell us what attracted him to these specific cases and we've got our first lead."

"All of the original case files and evidence should be at the lab by the end of the day," she reached for his fires almost as soon as the waitress put them down, "Hodgins is hoping to find commonalities there as well."

"That's a lot to go through," he bit into his burger, "The Hairston angle will be quicker, trust me on this."

"I trust you," her smile was so pure he couldn't help but smile back, "I'll be sure to recommend that line of inquiry to Agent Perotta."

Booth tried hard not to let any emotions leak out onto his face at the inadvertent reminder that it wasn't his case to solve with her. It had been so easy to slide into their usual roles and it made him realize just how hard it was going to be not working with her.

For right now, though, their desired for food overcame everything else and the settled into a companionable silence. Around them the diner thrummed with mid-day activity that was so familiar to him it was soothing rather than irritating. No matter what the net six months brough, he decided as he eyed the "Pie of the Day" display, he would make time to do this with Bones as often as possible.

As they bickered lightly back and forth about her sharing his pie, he tried to remember the last time he'd needed to carve out time for her. Sure, back in the early days they'd go their separate ways after work, with the occasional after-case drink at Sid's. The drinks had become meals and the casual chats stretched into long conversations.

Eventually, Sid started kicking them out because they'd get in so late and talk so long. Takeout at her place over case filed had been the next step and had suited their purpose well until they'd finally found the Royal Diner. Oh sure, sometimes they'd go to the Founding Father's for a drink with the squints, or even back to his place if it was just the two of them, but at least one meal a day would be spent at their corner. The time that they spent apart continued to decrease so that when they were married about the only thing that changed in that respect was their sleeping arrangements.

"I need to get back to the lab," Bones laid her hand over his apologetically, bringing him back to the present.

"Sure, of course, Bones," he shoveled his last bite of pie in and dug for his wallet, frowning, "Got any cash on you? I only have a five."

"How is it," she smirked, "That once we were married you stopped always carrying enough money to pay for our meals?"

"I got me a Sugar Momma," he grinned, slipping an arm around her waist as they walked back to the Jeffersonian.

It was hard to tell if she ignored him because she understood what he'd said or didn't have a clue what he was talking about. Either way, she rolled her eyes and leaned into him, her arm snaking around his waist too. He was pleasantly surprised when she stayed that way as they walked into the building.

"If we are no longer bound by the constraints of a professional partnership," she smiled slyly at his unasked question, "then I see no reason to adhere to our former strictures in that regard."

"So does that mean…?" he waggled his eyebrows hopefully, flicking his eyes between her and her office.

"No," she shook her head, "sexual intercourse on the couch is still inadvisable due to the number of security cameras."

"A little louder next time, Bones," he hissed as the whole lab seemed to turn and stare at them, "pretty sure they didn't hear you over at the Egyptian exhibit."

"You were the one who insinuated the concept in the first place," she accused.

"Yes, _insinuated_," he emphasized, "not blurted out at the top of my lungs."

"I can assure you that my statement was not given in-"

"Okay, okay, you didn't yell," he rolled his eyes, then pointed up to the platform, "You've got company."

Perotta was there, sandwiched with Cam between all of the remains and obviously waiting for Bones.

"Knock 'em dead," he whispered with a quick kiss and a wink before heading to her office.

From the upper level he watched the three women interacting, needing to make sure they'd all play nice. He chuckled as he watched his wife walk up onto the platform and take control of the conversation, body language clear that she wasn't in the mood to fool around. Perotta looked a little defensive when Bones pointed out that she should question Hairston, but to her credit the agent bit her tongue and even offered to let Bones watch from the observation room; which was good because Bones looked like she was going to demand it anyway.

With one last appreciative ogling of Dr. Brennan in her lab coat, Booth turned his back on them, confident as he ever would be that the case was in good hands.


	30. Visions of the Past

Chapter 30: Visions of the Past

At five o'clock, Cam called a halt to all investigative activities and ordered everyone home for the night so that they would be fresh the next morning when the next wave of coffins came in. Any other night Temperance would have ignored the order and stayed later, but the work that she wanted to accomplish required standing and she was already pushing her injured feet and ankle to their limits.

By the time she made it to her office she was shuffling to avoid too much pain and ready to go home.

"Mommy!" came Sadie's exuberant cry as she crossed the threshold.

White hot pain spiked from the soles of her feet up through her calves and she ground her teeth together in an effort not to cry out as Sadie flung her arms around her tightly.

"What's up, Doc?" Seeley popped up from the other side of the couch with a large grin.

Their eyes met and the grin dropped, replaced with concern. More quickly than she thought was possible he moved over to scoop Sadie into his arms and usher Temperance into the nearest chair. Relief flooded her instantly and she smiled her thanks at him.

"Round up your stuff Sadie-girl," he instructed, setting her down.

He waited until Sadie was engrossed in her task before asking, "Why didn't you call up and tell us you were done, Bones?"

"I didn't think to at the time," she answered honestly.

"Of course you didn't," he smiled, "What needs to go home?" he gestured at the paper-littered desk.

"Grandpa!" Sadie interrupted her mother's answer with a loud squeal.

Temperance watched as her daughter launched herself at Max, who caught the little girl in his open arms, spun her around, and then lifted her up in the air calling out, "Shoot the moon, Alice!"

Sadie burst into a fit of giggles, settling comfortably in his arms and Temperance felt her heart clench.

"You used to do that," she said slowly, images of a happier time coalescing in her mind's eye, "when I was a young girl."

Max Keenan's face twisted in surprise as he nodded, "You used to love it."

"I never understood why you called me Alice," she confessed, shaking her head.

"My literal girl," he smiled back.

"Was there something specific that you wanted?" she queried, trying not to appear rude despite her fatigue.

"Just making sure this guy takes care of you," he clapped Seeley affectionately on the shoulder with an open palm.

"He is," she assured him.

"Good," she thought his tone sounded a bit forced, "and you're good?"

"On the whole, yes," she nodded, unsure of the answer he was seeking, "though to be honest, I am a bit fatigued."

"Oh," her father spoke quickly, setting Sadie down, "Well don't let me keep you from going home. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay."

"I am, thank you," she nodded.

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head, hugged Sadie goodbye, and shook hands with Seeley.

"Dad," the word still sounded foreign on her lips despite how long he'd been back in her life, but she was pleased when he turned to face her, "Would-would you like to have dinner with us? Tonight, I mean? Unless you already have dinner plans in which case I-"

"I'd love to, Tempe," he mercifully cut off her rambling, "I'll go down to my room and grab my things and meet you there."

She nodded, still slightly unsure of why she'd impulsively extended the invitation. Sadie asked if she could ride with him and the older man acquiesced with a large smile. Shouldering her small backpack, Sadie took her grandfather's hand, gave her parents a quick wave, and left.

By the time Temperance had torn her gaze away from the doorway, Seeley had packed the majority of her remaining work for her to take home.

"You did good, Bones," he told her softly.

"How so?" she gave him a puzzled look.

"What you did for Max there," he clarified, offering a hand as she stood to feet, "inviting him in; that was the right thing to do."

"I'm still not certain why I did," she confessed as they walked out, locking the office door behind them.

"Maybe," he raised an eyebrow, "you're finally ready to trust after five years of having him around again, that he won't run out on you this time?"

"Maybe," she acknowledged.

A small smile graced his face and he shifted his grip on her to lend her more support but in a manner that allowed her to retain her dignity as they passed her co-workers.

"I see your requisition paperwork was cleared," she nodded at the new SUV waiting just outside the door for them, "And that you've wasted no time parking your new vehicle illegally."

"You wanna walk all the way to the parking garage, be my guest," he grinned, all but lifting her into the passenger's seat and gently shutting her in.

"What about my car?" she demanded when he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Relax," he waved off her concern, "Max'll drive it home for you."

"You arranged this earlier?"

"I asked him if he could drop the car off, _you_ invited him to dinner," he pointed out, "Which, by the way, what are we going to have? Last time I looked the cupboards were pretty bare."

"We'll find something," she shrugged, then grew serious, "I have a question for you."

"The answer's seven," he answered smartly, earning him a punch in the shoulder from her.

"I'm serious, Seeley!"

"What, Bones?" he dropped the teasing façade.

"Given that we are not currently partners, would it be wrong of me to discuss ongoing investigations with you?" the thought had been nagging at her all afternoon, though she would not have broached the question to anyone else.

"It's not like I got my security clearance revoked," he shrugged, "So I don't see where it'd be wrong. I mean, I can't step in and help or Cullen would castrate me, but if you wanna bounce things off of me that's fine."

"Good," she nodded, releasing a small breath in relief.

She filled the time on the remaining drive home to update him on all that had taken place during the afternoon. Perotta had run into a mess of red tape when she put in the request to interrogate Benjamin Hairston and would not be allowed access to him until Tuesday morning. Meanwhile, eight of the ten coffins had been brought to the Jeffersonian, pleasing Hodgins to no small end, while she, Wendell, and Clark had worked on cataloguing injuries on each set of remains. So far, they had finished thorough examinations of four of the bodies, including her reevaluation of Lily's remains now that she had access to the physical bones. According to the Angelator, each girl had been bound, raped, and killed with the same weapon by a blow to the parietal bone.

Leaning her head back against the headrest she sighed, "At this point it would be logical to assume that this was the fate of all ten girls, though their defensive wounds appear to vary, so perhaps we will learn something useful in that respect."

"You'll get him," Booth said confidently, "You always do."

"My intuitive skills are lacking," she critiqued herself as they pulled into the garage, "If anything my time in captivity proved that I do not possess the proper skill set to take data that has been gathered and interpret it."

"Perotta will be fine," he reassured her, helping her out and putting his arm around her waist as he'd done before.

"I'm capable on walking on my own," she informed him.

"Maybe, but then I couldn't do this," he turned her toward him and closed the gap between them, crushing her lips with his own.

"Told you," they heard Sadie's voice from the doorway connecting the garage to the house, "They're always doing that when they think nobody's looking! I look, though. It's kind of funny sometimes. Especially when Daddy grabs Mommy's b-"

"Sadie. Max," Seeley interrupted, "Good to see you made it home safe and sound. Let's get dinner, huh?"

"Yay," the turn in conversation was enough to distract Sadie, who was jumping repeatedly up and down.

"Smooth," she heard her father compliment her husband.

Seeley smirked and nodded.

"You just wait 'til it's Sadie out here necking in the garage and see how you feel," Max warned him.

"Not gonna happen," Seeley shook his head, "Sniper-trained FBI Agent, remember?"

At that, he removed his suit coat, revealing the side holster, as well as the one on his belt. Removing both weapons, he freed them from their clips and set them in the safe on the top shelf of the hall closet, spinning the combination dial to lock it when he was through. He hung the holster up in the closet on a hanger and shut the closet door.

"Okay, Sadie-girl," he grinned, loosening his tie and tossing it on the sofa as he passed through the living room and into the kitchen, "let's get some food!"

"You gotta eat," Sadie grinned back at him.

"What sounds good?" he asked.

Sadie thought for a long moment, then smiled widely, "Brinner!"

"Brinner?" Max asked.

Temperance listened, amused, as Sadie described all of the breakfast foods that would be served, including the "B" shaped pancakes because they were all Booths. This earned Temperance a wry grin from her father, who no doubt recalled a similar tradition in the Brennan household over the years. To his credit, he mentioned none of his prior knowledge to Sadie, instead allowing her to describe everything on her own.

Throughout the rest of the evening, Temperance observed her father's interactions with Sadie, noting the joy sparkling in his eyes and wondering if that had been present when she was younger as well. For fifteen years, she had purposefully not dwelt on her childhood memories, as the "better" ones seemed to evoke the most pain. The longer she observed, however, the more she remembered; and the more she remembered, the more she found that she could finally look back on the memories with more fondness than sorrow.

"Are you alright, Temperance?" he asked when Seeley went upstairs to get Sadie ready for bed.

"Yes," she said softly, meeting her father's eyes and finding the love that she had deliberately ignored for so long, "I believe I am."


	31. Sweet Caroline

Chapter 31: Sweet Caroline

Max left around 9:30, refusing Booth's offer to drive him home and opting for a taxi instead. Fifteen minutes later he called to let Bones know he'd gotten home safely. He shoulders looked noticeably more relaxed, but she still had that lost little girl look that she always got after she spent time with her dad. She didn't seem to want to talk about it tonight, though, so he didn't push her.

The next two hours consisted of watching her bury herself in paperwork, occasionally glancing up to frown at him when the TV got too loud. The Flyers' game ended just after midnight and when he looked over to tell Bones it was time to go to bed he realized that she had fallen asleep already. He watched her chest rise and fall at a steady pace as he cleared the couch around her, forming a nice, neat stack of papers on the floor.

She was still sleeping when he finished and for a moment he simply stood beside her, wondering what the safest way to wake her up would be. Finally, he laid a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"Seeley?" she yawned, eyes fluttering open.

"Time to wake up and go to bed, Bones," he smiled, moving in to lift her up off of the couch.

"I'm perfectly capable of getting up the stairs under my own power," she protested, pushing him aside and standing up on her own.

"Might be more fun," he teased, waggling his eyebrows.

"Not for your back," she shot back.

He grimaced at the thought, knowing she was right, then smirked, "I'll just get you to use those magic knuckles of yours on me."

She rolled her eyes and headed up the stairs, turning the lights off when she reached the top.

"Hey!" he called, trying to feel his way around in the now-darkened basement.

Her laughter filtered down to him, but she didn't turn the lights back on. Two sore knees and one very sore toe later he caught up to her in their bedroom.

"I think my toe's broken," he groused, sitting down heavily on the bed and stretching his feet out.

"Given your gait and the short time it took you to mount the stairs that's highly unlikely," she shook her head.

"OW!" he yelled as she grabbed his toe and started squinting and poking at it, "Geez, Bones, a little warning?"

"Stop moving," she ordered, peeling the orange and red striped sock off of his foot.

"Hey! _Live_ person attached to that bone there, Bones."

"Honestly, you're worse than a child," she shook her head, fingers expertly probing at his toe.

He gritted his teeth while she did her thing, looking up expectantly once she'd finished.

"It's stubbed," she concluded with a smirk.

"Stubbed?" he looked at her slack-jawed, "Three doctorates plus a genius IQ and all you can give me is stubbed?"

"I _could_ give you the scientific terms," she offered.

"On second thought, it's after midnight, so I'm good with stubbed." He winked at the, "Might need a kiss though.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised when she literally kissed his sore toe, but he was.

"Better?" She arched an eyebrow.

"I was thinking on the lips, but sure, Bones. Good night," he flipped the bedside lamp off.

His head had no sooner hit the pillow then her lips were on his, kissing him fully and deeply. He was just starting to enjoy himself when she pulled back abruptly.

"Good night, Seeley," she said casually, moving all the way over to her side of the bed.

He thought about doing something about it, then remembered that they both had full days ahead of them in the morning and could use a full night's sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Temperance," he whispered into the darkness.

****

Shafts of early morning sunlight oozed through the blinds, waking him up slowly. His right arm felt heavy and he was about to move it when he realized that Bones was the one pinning it down. She was still asleep and judging by the sun it was still early, so he pulled her deeper into his arms and closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

The next thing he knew, the alarm clock was going berserk beside him and Bones was muttering at him to turn it off. He did, but it didn't motivate him to want to leave the warm cocoon of the covers anytime soon.

"We should play hooky," he smiled at Bones, who was still nestled in his arms.

"Hooky?" her eyes told him that was familiar with the concept, but had never actually done it before.

"Yeah, Bones," he grinned, "we could take the day off, drop Sadie at school…"

"And then what?" she asked as his voice trailed off.

"Go out," he answered, peppering the nape of her neck with kisses before growling softly, "or stay in."

"Tempting as that sounds," she turned in his arms, running her slender finger down his bare chest, "it would be inadvisable given who your provisional supervisor is. Caroline wasn't feeling puckish, remember?"

He hid his laugher with a nod and more kisses on her neck, remembering how she'd practically thrown herself at Caroline to try and get the ornery prosecutor to change her mind when she couldn't get Cullen to change his. It had amused him then too, and made him wish that he'd been a fly on the wall back when Caroline had set her terms for the mistletoe kiss.

The sudden rush of cool air made it apparent he wasn't going to convince Bones to play hooky today, since she was already up and moving for the shower. Groaning at the dual prospects of getting up and reporting to Caroline he flung the covers off and crawled out of bed reluctantly.

An hour and a half later, Sadie was at pre-school, Bones was at the Jeffersonian, and he was on his way to Caroline's office.

"'Bout time you showed up," she greeted him as he entered the all-but empty receptionist's lobby, "Connie's on vacation this week, so you get to man the phones."

"Aw, com'on, Caroline," he gave her his saddest puppy dog face, "You don't _have_ to do this to me you know?"

"I know," she swiped the bag of donut holes he'd brought as a peace offering, "just like you know you didn't _have_ to play Superman in those woods. And don't give me that look Seeley Booth, you knew damned well what you were getting yourself into and you are _not_ gonna charm your way out of it this time."

He dropped the look but still frowned, "Look, just tell Cullen that I've learned my lesson and I'll never do it again," he held up his right hand, "Scout's honor."

"You may just be the world's oldest living Boy Scout," she gave him a nod, "But we both know you'd do exactly the same thing and Cullen knows it too." He sighed and she shook her head, "Look, Cherie, you've been moonin' over that girl since you had me get her out of that mess in New Orleans, which is fine because heaven knows you never had any luck with those leggy blonde lawyer-types," she held up a hand to stave off his protests, "What you might want to ponder while you answer phones and make my coffee, though, is _why_ Cullen sent you to cool your heels here for awhile."

"Should I write 'I am not a vigilante' on the board a hundred times while I'm at it?" he quipped, growing more frustrated by the minute.

"Can't hurt but try," she shrugged with a smirk, "Just crack the windows if you do. That marker smell gives me headaches."

With that, she tossed him a donut hole and jerked a thumb at the empty desk, telling him to give a shout to her ex-husband's receptionist if he needed help with the computer software and warning him sternly not to pull his gun out on any of her clients, no matter how badly he wanted to.

The phones were mercifully quiet through the morning hours and the few people who trickled in didn't give him any problems. Once Caroline gave him the okay, he headed to the Jeffersonian and dragged Bones out to lunch at Wong Fu's. They'd barely gotten their food when Perotta called Bones, letting her know that Hairston was available for interrogation if Bones still wanted to watch. She did of course, so they hurried through lunch and booked it over to the Hoover.

Booth had a sinking feeling in his gut when he came back to a lobby full of clients waiting for Caroline. The next four hours felt like a bad dream as he juggled irritated clients, not to mention impatient field agents, and slimy defense attorneys. The phone was ringing off the hook all afternoon too and by the time the last person left, he felt proud of himself for not threatening to shoot anyone.

There was a message on his phone informing him that Bones had picked Sadie up from school and that the two of them were going grocery shopping and would meet him at home. A quiet house greeted him, so he changed into his running gear, left a note for Bones, and took off.

Their neighborhood was one of the older ones in DC; not so far from the city to be the suburbs, but not so close that the noise was a problem. The crime rate was relatively low and most of the houses sat on wooded lots of anywhere from a half an acre, to an acre like theirs. From what he'd gathered most of the neighbors were among the bottom rungs of the political movers and shakers, with some retired military families and professors thrown in for good measure.

What that added up to was a bunch of people who lived in the same area, but never interacted. The thought of it had bothered him when they'd first moved out here, having lived in downtown areas most of his life, but he'd adapted quickly and both he and Bones and the kids loved the house. Plus, he mused as he finished the four mile circuit; it wasn't like they spent a huge amount of time here during the weekdays anyway.

He'd just stepped out of the shower when the familiar sounds of Sadie's laughter filled the house, relieving him of one less worry for the day. As soon as he made it downstairs, the little girl was in his arms, telling him all about her day at school, followed by her adventures at the Jeffersonian. Apparently Parker had been over there too, working with Max on the wind tunnel he was building for the science fair and Sadie was thrilled because they'd let her help with some of the painting.

Three helpings of spaghetti, a bath, and two bedtime stories later, he and Bones were finally alone. They shared a beer and a banana split while they swapped stories about their day. She claimed that she still had a bunch of paperwork to catch up on, but she was shuffling in pain again and seemed emotionally drained from the Hairston interrogation so he insisted that they head to bed early. It didn't surprise him at all that she was asleep within five minutes of settling down and he wasn't too far behind her.


	32. Promises to Keep

Chapter 32: Promises to Keep

She was in the woods again, pulse hammering in her chest as she ran away from the sound of Hairston's voice. A cold rain pounded down on her as tiny branches lashed out at her arms and face. Thunder and lightning crashed in the sky overhead, making the hair on the back or her neck stand straight up, her skin prickling with electricity.

The wind carried his voice to her ears and her legs churned faster, feet ignoring the biting stones and whatever else was ripping them to shreds. Her toe snagged on something in the undergrowth, hurtling her to the ground sharply.

With a start, her eyes snapped open. She was home. Safe and sound. In her bed. Beside her, Seeley shifted in his sleep as she let out a long breath.

Thunder rumbled outside, rattling the windows, and a few seconds later, lightning streaked through the night air, illuminating the room around her for a nanosecond. The storm, coupled with her encounter with Hairston earlier that day, had not doubt triggered the nightmare, but knowing that didn't give her any more or less peace at the moment.

Closing her eyes again, she flashed back to the observation room at the Hoover. It was not so much Hairston's presence that had unnerved her, but rather the lack of remorse with regards to what he had done to her. He was a walking death sentence, he told Perotta with a shrug, so the consequences didn't matter to him anywhere near as much as getting justice for Lily.

Seeley had been right about Hairston being about to give them the greatest common factor between all of victims. Hairston had been more than happy to tell Perotta that each of the victims he'd dug up had disappeared on the exact same day as Lily had and had been found around the same time too. Year after year the same thing would happen and by the time one Dr. Temperance Brennan came onto the scene, proclaiming that she could solve with her science what traditional law enforcement could not, he'd decided that she was the one who could put an end to the killings.

Perotta had asked if he'd ever gone to the police with his suspicions and he'd sneered at her, laughing cynically. Yes, he'd gone, mostly to keep on them about Lily's case and was continually rebuffed. When he'd noticed the emerging pattern, he'd contacted not only the police, but the other families involved as well. He'd already been written off as a crackpot by the cops, though, and the other families dismissed him out of hand based on his reputation with the police.

"Every year," the pain saturated his voice, "I had to watch another girl go missing on the news, wondering how long it would take for her body to show up this time."

Another clap of thunder brought Temperance back to the present. Adrenaline no longer coursed through her veins, but she was thoroughly awake despite the early hour. From down the hall, she could hear crying and she quickly moved out of bed toward the sound.

It was coming from Sadie's room.

"Shh," she soothed her tearful daughter, crossing the room swiftly and disentangling the young girl from the mound of blankets she'd buried herself under, "It's okay, Sadie. I'm right here."

Sadie crawled up into her lap and Temperance held and rocked her until the tears subsided into hiccups.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" Temperance asked softly.

"I had bad dreams," Sadie snuffled the reply, using her mother's sleeve as a tissue.

"What kind of bad dreams, little one?"

"The bad men took you away again and you never came back just like my first mommy," the words tumbled out.

A tear pricked at the corner of her eye for all of the pain that Sadie had already lived through in her young life and she pulled back slightly so that Sadie could see her face.

"Put your hand in mine," she instructed, waiting for Sadie to obey, "Now, listen closely. I cannot promise you that nothing will ever happen to me because that would be a lie. Your father and I are in a line of work that involves a higher degree of danger than some other professions do, plus one can never predict with certainty what the future will bring."

She watched Sadie's face fall and wished for a brief moment that she was one of those people who could easily lie to children, thus sparing her daughter this momentary pain. Small fingers clutched her hand even tighter, their heartbeats discernable through the close contact.

She caught Sadie's eye and continued, "What I _can_ promise you is this: For as much as it lies in my power, I will _always_ fight to come back to you. I will never give up."

The little girl sat straight up, a smile blossoming across her face, "Daddy told everybody that at the Jeffers! And then Grandpa figured out the secret code to get you back! I got scared 'cause of the storm that night but Aunt Angie told me that Daddy and Grandpa were going to bring you home so then I wasn't as scared," Sadie grew serious for a moment, "I really missed you, Mommy. Is it okay to miss you?"

"Of course," Temperance assured her, running her free hand through the mass of blonde curls, "I missed you too; very badly. I love you very much, Miss Sadie Booth."

Giggles burst forth from the little girl, dispelling the sadness, "I love you too Miss Mommy Booth!"

"You girls having a party without me?" Seeley asked, coming into the room, slightly disheveled.

"The storm gave me scary dreams," Sadie offered by way of an explanation, trading Temperance's lap for Seeley's arms.

"Hmm," he nodded, "Well, I think it's finally settling down out there, but how about you girls move your party into my bedroom and we'll all try and get some more sleep?"

Sadie nodded vigorously, jumping down from his arms and collecting her pillow and stuffed dolphin before heading down the hall.

"_Your_ bedroom," Temperance muttered out of the side of her mouth as they trailed behind Sadie.

"You know what I meant."

"Yes," she confirmed, then asked, "How long had you been standing outside of her door?"

"Long enough to know that you're an amazing mom," he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close and planting a kiss on her temple.

"I wish that I could promise her that we'll always be there," she admitted.

"Every parent does," he told her, "But you gave Sadie something even better than that"

"I did?"

"Yeah, Bones," he stopped at the threshold of their bedroom, locking his eyes with hers, "You gave her the truth."


	33. The Girl in the Alley

Chapter 33: The Girl in the Alley

By and large his workdays fell into the same pattern they had the first day; long, tedious mornings, hurried lunches with Bones, followed by afternoons that tried every last ounce of self-control he possessed. His four mile runs became a fixture too.

Caroline proved to be a fair boss as taskmistresses went. To help break the long mornings up, she'd send him case files to review and give her his input on. He also had retained his admin duties at the FBI and try as he might, he couldn't use his reassignment to weasel out of departmental meetings and paperwork. As for the office work, Caroline expected a lot, but gave him the latitude to get things done his own way. Of course she also nagged him daily to think about what had landed him in her office in the first place and did nothing to defend him when his fellow agents razzed him while they waited to see her.

"Booth!" she came bounding through the lobby doors Friday morning, equal parts drill sergeant and momma bear, "Detention's over for the minute. Cullen's got a dead body downtown and you're the only warm body available."

"A body?" he was out of his seat in an instant, double checking his sidearm and making sure there wasn't anything else he was forgetting, "Where?"

"What do I look like, a GPS?" she flung her arms up in the air, "Call dispatch. And wipe that goofy grin off your face. Not all cases require the Jeffersonian-if you'll recall- and this is one of those that can be handled by us mere mortals."

"No Bones," he muttered, some of the excitement fleeing.

"No bones, just flesh," Caroline nodded, clapping her hands together, "Best call that genius wife of yours and tell her you won't be makin' it for lunch today. Then grab whatever gear you need and don't forget that hula girl pen of yours, 'cause I got a bad feeling I'm gonna need something to cheer me up by the end of this."

It felt odd driving to the scene with Caroline in the passenger's seat instead of Bones; felt even weirder once they got there and started going over the scene. Apparently the techs thought so too and he spent his first five minutes shooing them back to work as they stopped to gawk at him.

The most jarring thing, though, was the body itself. For seven years he'd gotten used to seeing human remains in every sort of state imaginable- most so badly decomposed he could barely tell which parts were what without Bones beside him to interpret. Caroline had been right that he wouldn't be needing a forensic anthropologist for this one, who looked for all the world like she was asleep and would wake up any second.

Clenching his jaw, he schooled his face not to broadcast his emotions as he made his way to the end of the alley behind DC's largest post office. She was young- thirteen or fourteen at the most- dressed in a khaki skirt and a baby-doll cut shirt proclaiming, "I love Troy." Long, sandy-blond hair had been parted down the center and braided into pigtails like Maddie always got Bones to do for her for Mass. Braces that would never get to finish the job they'd started glittered from under her lips in the mid-morning sun. There wasn't any smell from the flesh decomposing, but Booth felt his stomach churn nonetheless.

"The body was discovered by Chester Arthur Polk," Marcus Geier informed him, pointing a thumb at a ragged looking old man with a beard half-way down his shirt, standing off to one side, "Apparently, this alley's his home."

Booth nodded his thanks, then approached the older man, "Mr. Polk? I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, can you tell me how you found the body?"

Instead of dull, hollow eyes, a set of piercing green ones met his, then proceeded to rake him up one side and down the other.

"Which branch did you serve?" Polk asked with unnerving surety.

"Army. Rangers," Booth answered crisply.

"'Rangers lead the way,'" the man said with a twinkle in his eye and in a way that told Booth, Polk had had the credo hammered into his head as much as Booth had. "Well, I'll tell you, Agent Booth, the weather's been rainy lately, so I went and stayed at the VA for a few days and when I came back this morning I found that girl layin' right where she is now. Went right into the post office and told 'em."

"Thank you," Booth spoke sincerely, "Was there anything else out of place that you noticed?"

The man fingered his beard, shaking his head, "Not that I noticed right off. Can't say I saw much of anything after I saw the girl, though. Damn shame, that."

Booth nodded sympathetically, motioning to Marcus for the evidence bag the kid was holding, and then showing it to Polk, "Is this yours?"

The old man peered at the torn piece of checked fabric the techs had recovered from a rusty nail beside the girl's body, "Nope. Cammo's the closest I come to plaid."

"You've been a real help," Booth said, passing the bag back to Geier and offering Polk his hand.

The old soldier grasped it firmly, "You find out who did this," he charged Booth, "That little girl deserved a lot better than what she got."

"I plan on it," Booth nodded.

Heading back to the body, he did his best to act the consummate professional as he collected data in his notebook; shoving the thought that this girl could easily double for Maddie out of his mind. He paused when he crouched down for a better look at the girl's face, asked one question that elicited a surprised look from the ME, told them to stop what they were doing immediately, and whipped out his phone.

"Bones," he rushed, "you said there was a date. What was it?"

"Date?" she asked, confused, "What date are you talking about and where are you? This connection is horrible."

"I'm out. I'll explain later," he reminded himself that she didn't work well when rushed and took a deep breath before starting over, "I need to know what the date was when Hairston said all of the girls went missing. Do you remember it?"

"Of course I do," she sounded offended, "February twenty-third, why?"

"And they were recovered when?" he ignored her question.

"Between mid-March and early- oh," the line went silent and he could swear he could hear the genius gears in her brain whirring through the static, "You believe you've found this year's victim." It wasn't a question.

"Either that or one helluva coincidence."

"You don't believe in coincidences in a murder investigation," she caught on.

"Exactly," he nodded, then switched gear, "Look, Bones, I've gotta make some calls. We'll talk shop in a little bit, okay?"

She agreed and they signed off.

His next call wasn't nearly as pleasant.

"Cullen," came the sharp response from the other end.

"Booth here," he paused, then plunged ahead, "I'm gonna need Cam on this one, sir."

"You've got a very persuasive reason, I presume?" the Deputy Director didn't sound thrilled, but at least he'd hear Booth out.

"Blunt force trauma to the parietal bone, just above the lambdoidal suture," he explained.

"I'm sure you're wife's turned on by that sort of thing, but I'm not," Cullen deadpanned.

"It's COD on every vic Bones has recovered from the mailroom," Booth spoke quickly, "and according to the ME on site, it's what killed this girl too. Plus the timeframe fits."

A moment of silence followed by profanity and Booth had his permission.


	34. Flesh and Blood and Bones

Chapter 34: Flesh and Blood and Bones

It was an odd sight, Temperance thought as she watched Cam gather her things and leave. While occasionally cam would go along with them, Temperance couldn't think of a case that the pathologist had ever been called to go to alone with Seeley. An irrational twinge of jealousy welled up in her and she had to remind herself that there were no bones involved in Seeley's current case, so it made perfect sense for Cam to be called instead of her.

"Dr. Brennan," Agent Perotta approached her, file in hand, "ready to compare notes?"

Reluctantly, she nodded, squelching the urge to remind her ersatz partner that if she would simply allow her to go along with her to track down leads as Booth did, there would be no need to waste time comparing notes. The memory of Cullen's flippant remark that any other forensic anthropologist could be used surfaced, providing all of the drive she required to complete this assignment professionally and with no cause for censure.

The two women sat down and Perotta began explaining things as if Brennan were a novice when it came to dealing with the inner workings of an FBI investigation. She closed her eyes and began calculating pie to the nearest one hundred-thousandth. This was going to be a long afternoon.

***

"Please tell me that isn't the only thing you've eaten this afternoon," Seeley announced himself, barreling into her office and sitting down noisily on the couch beside her.

"This isn't the only thing I've eaten this afternoon," she parroted back at him between bites of the slightly stale granola bar she'd scavenged from the bottom drawer of her desk.

"Ugh," he wrinkled his nose, plucking the bar from her hand, "You're lucky this thing hasn't fossilized!"

He sent it clanging on the inside of her metal trash can for effect.

"Is there a purpose for your presence other than to deprive me of what food I have, while pressuring me to eat, Booth?" she scowled at him.

"A petrified snack bar doesn't count as lunch, Bones," he clucked, shaking his head, handing her a fresh sub.

"This from the man who eats processed noodles seasoned with high-sodium, artificial flavors out of a Styrofoam cup?"

"Hey, don't knock Cup o' Soup 'til you try it!" He wagged his finger at her, "Even Zack knew better than that."

"I never understood the appeal when he ate them either," she sighed, then proceeded to open and eat the sub.

"Aren't you the least bit curious why I'm here in the middle of the day?" he wondered as she ate.

"You're waiting on Cam's autopsy results from the case you were assigned to this morning," she replied smoothly.

"Yes," he answered slowly, "and yet you say that as if I were cheating on you."

She could feel his eyes study her face as she attempted to make her jealousy. Before she could dismiss the feeling once more, however, she was caught off-guard by his lips descending onto her firmly yet with ample tenderness and affection.

"Feeling better?" he asked when they separated.

She smiled despite her best efforts not to, but shoved him away when he leaned in for a second kiss.

"Don't you have work to do?" she teased.

"You gonna let me finish telling you what I'm here for without going all jealous wife on me?" he teased back.

"Enlighten me."

"Eat," he pointed at the sub in her hand, not continuing until she complied, "I need your help. Unofficially." She raised an eyebrow and he continued, "I _might_ have stretched the truth a little bit to Cullen today."

"You lied?" the eyebrow rose further.

"I played a hunch," he defended himself.

"Your infamous 'gut' no doubt," she shook her head, knowing that scenarios like this should not still surprise her.

"Yeah, well, I needed to buy some time, plus if my hunch is right, you squints would kill me for letting the FBI MEs handle the body first."

He was correct about that, at least, she thought, and asked aloud, "What is your hunch and what unofficial assistance do you require from me?"

"Everything about that crime scene reminded me of the old files I went over on the skeleton case," he started, "Obviously, the remains weren't decomposed badly or anything, but some of the ones that Hairston dug up weren't either; it just seemed to depend on when the cops happened to stumble on the bodies-"

"Which is all circumstantial evidence at best," she commented, "I'm surprised Cullen authorized contact with Cam."

"Yeah, well, I might have told Cullen I needed Cam because COD was the same as the other victims-"

"That," she cut him off, "was definitely a lie as there would've been no way for even a trained professional to ascertain such a thing from an external exam."

"Like I said, I stretched the truth," he shrugged, obviously not remorseful.

"Is this where my unofficial assistance comes into play?"

"Bingo, Baby," he pecked her on the check, "I need you and Cam to prove me right so I can stay on the case."

"Will you be giving evidence to Hodgins for him to process?" she asked before answering his question.

"He's down with Cam now, plus I can hand over the rest of the trace evidence once this thing is officially mine," he looked at her as if she should know that by now, then asked, "Why?"

"Tomorrow night's the donors' banquet," she said by way of a reminder.

"Right," he nodded curtly, "I'll dump everything on him that I can and be a pain about it, now, can you _please_ help me out? I'm gonna go crazy if I have to go back to Caroline's office."

"While I highly doubt that," she a smile quirked at the right side of her lips, "I _will_ help you. Tell Cam to send the remains to Wendell for boiling when she's done."

"Eh, no can do, Bones," Booth shook his head, "This is a little girl we're dealing with, not some half-rotted set of remains. Her body's evidence."

"Then how am I supposed to determine cause of death?" she crossed her arms, frowning.

"X-rays?" he said hopefully.

"Fine," she blew a loud breath out of her mouth, "I'll do what I can with high resolution imaging, though I cannot promise it will yield the results you desire."

"I'll take whatever you can give me," he grinned widely.

For the first time in weeks, the two headed for Cam's autopsy room together, discussing the case as they went. Booth told her she should ease up on Perotta and she told him he should stop lying to Cullen if he really wanted to get his field job back.

"Dr. Brennan, what brings you down here?" Cam asked pointedly when they arrived.

"She's keeping an eye on me, Cam," Booth winked, "You know how she feels about letting us FBI guys loose around remains."

"Right," Cam said in a voice that suggested that she sensed the subterfuge in their actions and was choosing to ignore it.

"Anything to tie it to the Hairston skels yet?" he wanted to know.

"X-rays should be back soon," she told him, "Angela is running her face through Missing and Exploited Children looking for a hit, and she's comparing your vic's flesh wounds to the grainy pictures we have from the others. Looking at the old ME reports I'd say we have several points of commonality, but nothing that would stand up in court."

"Was she…" Booth trailed off, leaving the word 'rape' unspoken.

Cam looked grim, "I'll run a kit once the x-rays come back to confirm what I'm seeing; and a tox panel. It's not going to be pretty, though. Hodgins is running the grit from her clothes and shoes, though he's chomping at the bit to get that torn fabric."

"What does that mean?" Booth asked.

"It means she was raped," Cam answered bluntly.

A chime sounded from Cam's computer before Booth could respond and she put the x-ray images up on the larger monitor.

"So?" Booth muttered in his wife's ear.

"Do you see the rectangular depression on the inferior portion of the superior temporal line?" she pointed to the x-ray, tracing the lines with her finger.

"I do now," Booth nodded. "Is it the same guy?"

"I couldn't say definitively," she shook her head. "Not without further analysis."

"Can you give me anything?" he was begging. "Tentatively?"

"Tentatively," she took a long breath, "it seems consistent with what I saw on Lily Hairston's skull."


	35. Heard it Through the Grapevine

Chapter 35: Heard it Through the Grapevine 

"Tentatively" was a word Booth was sick of by the end of the day. Cam had a _tentative_ idea as to what had gone on before the girl was killed, Bones was _tentatively _certain that the head wounds matched, and when Booth had reported all of this to Cullen, his boss had _tentatively_ put him back in the field. Booth was ordered to take on the alley girl's angle, while Perotta still worked the skeleton angle, and Bones and the squints covered the forensic work for both. The couple's partnership had also been reinstated on a probationary basis; another _tentative_ thing for Booth to cope and deal with.

Cam let the squints work as late as they wanted to that night with the understanding that none of them would work the weekend and all of them would attend the banquet. Fortunately for Booth, she was drained from the busy day and only required a minimum amount of groveling before letting him get Hodgins out of going.

The bug man all but hugged Booth at the news and began drooling like a kid in a candy store when evidence boxes from the Hoover began to arrive. Hodgins offered to let Sadie sleep over Saturday night; an idea that thrilled the little girl and her friends, and sent the three kids scurrying into Angela's office to make their grand plans.

Protests were loud and long when Angela and Booth announced it was time to go back to their respective homes for the night and leave the scientists to their work. All three were asleep by the time Booth dropped Ange and the kids off at the mansion, though, and Sadie didn't stir at all when Booth got home and carried her up to bed. It was hours later before he felt Bones slip under the covers beside him, allowing his body to fully relax and fall into a deep sleep.

The weekend went about as smoothly as Booth could have hoped for. Saturday night they dressed to the nines for the banquet, ate, made small talk, pressed flesh, and danced with the best of them; then skipped out as early as they could. Drinks and real food at the Founding Fathers came next, followed by coffee and a slice of pie for Booth from the diner that was way better than all the fancy desserts that had been offered at the banquet.

Booth felt like he'd been transported back in time as they bickered and laughed on their way up to Bones' old apartment, glad they'd decided to keep the old place for romantic getaways. Sleep came almost as soon as his head hit the pillow that night, but the next morning they slept in and spent the rest of the morning in bed, sometimes talking and sometimes letting actions speak louder than words.

Eventually they left the apartment and collected Sadie before going back home. The little girl entertained them with tales of her adventures at the Hodgins' mansion and could barely contain her excitement as Booth booted up the computer to call Maddie and Joey. The call lasted over an hour and plans were made for the three Booths to come up for the science fair in five weeks. Maddie had gotten permission for Sadie to stay in the student house with her and the sisters were very animated as they discussed what all they would do together. He was glad to see Maddie smiling through almost the entire exchange; though just before they signed off he caught more than a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Do you think Cullen will reassign you again once the case is solved?" Bones asked as they curled up in bed that night.

"Hard to tell, he shrugged.

"Why?" she rolled onto her side to face him, laying her hand casually on his bare chest.

"Because," he linked his hand with hers, "there's something going on at the Hoover that goes way beyond our partnership."

"What do you mean?"

"There were…" he tried to figure out how best to phrase his words, "…rumblings when I was working in Caroline's office. About changes that are coming. Some of the higher ups are retiring later this year, so management will be shifting."

"Will it affect us?" she didn't sound concerned, but her eyes hinted that she was.

"It could," he answered honestly, "Cullen's given us a lot of latitude over the years, so if he's one of the ones shifting up things could definitely change. Problem is there's no protocol in place for what we do because no one else does it. I've heard rumors of some pilot programs trying to pair squints and agents but so far nothing's gotten off the ground that I know of."

"Could that be why Cullen was so forceful this time when you disregarded his orders?"

"Could be, Bones," he nodded.

"Well," she smiled, leaning over him to turn off the bedside light, "I'm glad he's relented for the time being."

Booth grunted noncommittally, his mind far from Cullen and work at the moment. When she didn't go back to her side of the bed the grunt changed to a low growl.

"To partners," she whispered in his ear.

It was the perfect ending to a great weekend.

Monday morning Booth dropped Sadie off at school, then went on to the Hoover while Bones drove separately to the lab in case she needed to stay late again. After having to endure a string of seemingly endless briefings he _almost_ wished he was back working in Caroline's office.

At ten, Cam called to let him know that, no only had Angela found out the identity of the girl in the alley, but also that the fourteen year old girl, Joelle Wynn, had indeed been reported missing on February twenty-third of this year. He hung up and set his agents to compiling preliminary info on Joelle and her family and pulling lists of any and all child disappearances on February twenty-third over the past two decades.

An hour later, he called Bones and asked if she wanted to go with him to inform the family once he got the background info from his people. She did, but was right in the middle of something she was working on with Perotta and asked if he could hold off another hour. That was fine with him, he assured her, promising to meet her at the lab to pick her up.

The file on the Wynns was waiting for him on his desk when he got off of the phone and he spent the next forty minutes getting a feel for the family. He'd just stood up to leave when Bones called and said she was still busy. It was almost noon anyway and he never liked to interrupt a family's meal if at all possible, so he had no problem giving her another hour to finish.

His own stomach growled after he hung up, reminding him that the coffee and stale donut he'd wolfed down before his first briefing weren't going to get him much further. A quick chick of his wallet yielded a few bucks, though the clock in his office told him he didn't have enough time to hit the diner before he had to get Bones.

With her remarks about his Cup o' Soup still taunting him, he bypassed the vending machine and headed straight for the Hoover cafeteria. The food wasn't gonna win any awards, he thought ruefully as he stood in line, but at least it wasn't mystery meat day. Plus, the line was still low so he wouldn't have to inhale the food to get to Bones on time. Grabbing the most private seat in the room that he could find where he wouldn't be disturbed, he sat down and dug in.

Not more than two minutes later, a loud group of special agents sat right behind him and he ducked his head to avoid their notice.

"So Cullen's moving up the food chain, huh?" one of the guys asked, catching Booth's attention.

"Yup," another answered, "my secretary heard it right from the lion himself."

"She tell you which one of us is moving up to cover his spot?" the first guy asked.

"If she heard she didn't tell me."

"You going after it, Peters?" a third guy asked.

"Hell yeah, but I'm not Cullen's golden boy," Peters answered, his disgust obvious.

"Think you'd do a better job than Booth?" came the incredulous question that riveted the topic of their conversation to his seat.

"A few years back? No way. But," he paused, then in a lower voice said, "everyone knows he's more squint now than agent."

"I heard he turned down a shot as director of the Dallas office a few years back, someone piped up.

"My partner was that hot, I'd stick around and marry her too," the first guy cracked.

"And have to put up with the Ice Queen outside of work too? No thanks," came the response.

Point is," Peters interrupted, "no matter how good his close rate is, his drive to advance in the game isn't in him anymore, so why not give the job to someone who cares? Let Booth be the world's oldest active field agent if it keeps him happy. It's his career to waste."


	36. Broken Pieces

Chapter 36: Broken Pieces 

It was uncharacteristic of her husband to be late without offering an excuse; even more so for his silence to extend through the length of a car ride. Pretending to read the file on the victim's family, she tried to surreptitiously interpret what he might be feeling. She concluded from his white-knuckle grip on the wheel, the set of his shoulders, and his singular fixation on the road in front of them that he was repressing some very strong emotions. From the tick in his jaw and darkened color of his eyes it appeared that the contained emotion was rage; though beyond that her insights floundered.

Could he possibly be mad at her for putting the family notification off an extra hour? She couldn't fathom how that could conjure such deep emotions, especially when he hadn't seemed bothered at all when she'd last spoken with him.

Had some new development come to light on his side of the investigation? Again, she thought not because he almost always vented his frustrations to her rather than shutting her out.

"What's wrong, Booth?" she finally asked when she had exhausted a list of plausible irritants without being able to determine which it was.

He ignored her, hands shifting their grip on the wheel as he wove through mid-day traffic.

"Seeley?" she tried the more personal approach, laying a hand on his tightened bicep.

This time his silence was accompanied by the full brunt of his angry glare that yelled, "BACK OFF" just as loudly as if he'd have opened his mouth. She withdrew her hand quickly and truned back to the file in her lap.

Joelle Wynn had been the middle child in her family with a brother and sister on either side of her respectively. Her mother, Cara, worked two jobs to make up for the fact that Joelle's father- Cara's ex-husband- was in and out of jail and not at all responsible when it came to making his child support payments.

It struck Temperance as oddly ironic that though only five miles separated Lily Hairston's childhood home from Joelle's, the socio-economic divide between them could not have been greater. Where Lily had grown up in a modest brownstone in a middle-class neighborhood, Joelle's mother could barely afford their fifth-story apartment in one of the city's worst housing projects.

Seeley parked along the litter-strewn street, breaking his stony silence long enough to tell her to stick close to him once they got out. Sensing that this was not the time to remind him how many forms of martial arts she was trained in, she merely nodded and followed in his wake as they made their way to the apartment.

The scent of stale smoke mingled with refuse and unwashed bodies assailed them as soon as they stepped through the front doors of the apartment building. Cautiously they picked their way up five flights of stairs and around piles of garbage. Seeley's firm hand attached itself to her lower back as they skirted the occasional sleeping person who reeked of cigarettes and cheap alcohol, releasing her only when they reached the Wynns' door.

"I ain't seen Danny in three weeks," a harried woman whose zygomatic arches mirrored those of Joelle Wynn answered Seeley's firm knock.

"We're not here for him, ma'm," he shook his head, "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and this is my partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"You found Joelle," the woman stated, ushering them inside and closing the door behind them. "She's gone isn't she?"

"I'm sorry, yes," Booth answered empathetically, far from the rage he'd exhibited on the drive over.

"Didn't figure you brought a fancy doctor to tell me she's okay," a sad smile played at the woman's lips.

She motioned for them to sit on the threadbare couch as she pulled a dining room chair in to sit across from them.

"An Amber Alert was issued on February twenty-third," Booth said gently. "Was that the last time you saw Joelle?"

Cara Wynn brushed away a tear, nodding, "I was hoping it was just Danny, you know? He could be pretty stupid sometimes and I thought maybe he got sick of not havin' custody an' took her." She looked to the partners for support, "They say that happens a lot."

"Did you see her that afternoon?" Brennan asked.

"No, just in the morning," the response came immediately, "before she went to school. I work the evening shift so my kids go to my sister's house in the afternoon, but Laura said Joelle never got there. Bobby's in high school and Kyra's in fifth grade so they all walk there separate. When she didn't show for dinner Laura called me and I called the cops."

Brennan nodded, her eyes drifting to the pictures of Joelle and her siblings scattered throughout the living room. The frames were flimsy, but it was evident that care and attention had been given to the placement of each one and the effect made the anthropologist feel even more deeply for the loss of such a young life.

"Either of you got kids?" Mrs. Wynn wanted to know.

They both nodded and the grieving mother turned her eyes to lock onto Brennan's.

"Always thought I'd know if somethin'd happened to one of my kids," her voice thickened with emotion, "but I swear, that day felt jest like every other on before it. I'da done somethin', _anything_, if I'd known any different!"

Temperance's head bobbed of its own volition; the scientist in her scoffing at the notion of pre-cognition, while the maternal side knew instinctively what the woman meant.

"If you can think of anything else that could help us," Seeley handed Cara Wynn one of his cards, "just give us a call."

Cara nodded.

"When-" her breath hitched in her throat as she fingered the card, "When can I see my baby?"

Images of the battered teenager flashed through Brennan's memory, causing her to suppress a shudder at the horrors Cam had already uncovered and making her extremely grateful that the woman hadn't pressed them for more details.

"As soon as possible," she heard the promise in Seeley's voice and knew he would see to it personally that he kept his word. "We need her long enough to make sure that whoever did this, doesn't do the same to anyone else."

"I'd like that," came the raspy response.

They exchanged goodbyes and left. The ride back to the lab was as silent as the ride there had been, but somber rather than tense.

"I'll check out the sister," he told her, pulling up to the curb to drop her off, "see if she can give us anything."

"What about the father?" she wondered aloud.

"Eventually," he shrugged. "Guy's basically a deadbeat, though, so I doubt he'll contribute much. I might try the kids if everything else comes up dry."

"I will continue processing the skeletal remains for Agent Perotta," she informed him. "If I can determine the weapon that was used it may grant us insights into Joelle's murder as well. Should I meet you at the Hoover when you are ready to conduct the interviews?"

He shook his head, "I'm going solo on this one. You stick to the bones."

It was the closest thing he'd given her to a direct order in years and it took her aback so much she wasn't certain how to respond.

"See you at home, then," his fingers waved, dismissing her from the SUV.

Stunned, hurt, and confused by his actions, she gathered up her belongings, gave him a long, hard look laden with censure should he care enough to read her expression, and left.


	37. Read Between the Lines

Chapter 37: Read Between the Lines

He was honestly surprised that she'd limited her reaction to a glare and a slammed door; not that he didn't know he deserved a swift kick in the testicles for the way he'd treated her all afternoon. Cursing himself, and Peters, and the rage that was boiling so close to the surface once again, he peeled out of the Jeffersonian and into traffic, not caring who he was cutting off in the process.

Somehow he managed to make it to the Hoover in one piece, though his black mood didn't lift when he found his agents playing paper football in the bullpen. Five minutes later, they were sufficiently chagrined and hard at work tracking down leads for him.

"Well aren't you the benevolent dictator?" Caroline greeted him, standing up from her chair as he walked into his office.

"Did you need something from me, Caroline?" he asked, collapsing into his chair.

"I _was_ going to congratulate you on weaseling out of your punishment, but I just might go back and tell Cullen to yank you off this case again."

The two glared at each other across the desk; neither budging.

"You look like somebody kicked your puppy," Caroline said finally. "Now, should we play Twenty Questions or are you going to act like an adult and tell me what's eatin' you?"

"It's me and Bones," he started, "well, mostly me," he fumbled for the right words, but they failed him.

"What? Did she fall in love with her new partner while you were gone?" the prosecutor goaded.

"No!" He shook his head, trying hard to hide a smirk at that thought, "Look, it's just…"

"Just what?"

"I don't want Cullen's job," he spat out finally, "It's way more admin and paperwork and-"

"People?" Caroline guessed when he stopped short.

"Yeah, them too," he nodded, "but mostly the other stuff. Is it so bad to want to be a career field agent?"

"Sounds like you think so," she shot back.

"Not me," Booth shook his head, "Peters."

"Huh," Caroline snorted, "Joel Peters only wishes he was half the agent you are!"

"Yeah, well, apparently he likes to spend his lunch breaks telling everyone what a loser I am for turning down promotions and sticking with Bones in the field," he groused.

"And this is where I get off this train because I am not your wife or your shrink," Caroline declared, standing up.

"Thanks a million."

She gave Booth one last glance, "Look, Cherie, you don't need me or anybody _else_ telling you who you are or are not. So why don't you stop throwing yourself a pity party and do your job? That's what a real man would do anyway."

Before he could come up with a good retort, his cell rang and Caroline waved goodbye as she left.

"You want to tell me why _I'm_ having to call and update you on Brennan's part of the case?" Cam didn't sound thrilled.

"Bones is mad at me," he winced.

"I figured that much out on my own and I'm going to guess from your tone that it wasn't her fault."

"Look, I'm not having the best of Mondays, okay?" he ran his free hand through his hair, "You need me to come over there?"

"Only if you wear your flack jacket," he heard her shake her head. "Whatever you did, Seeley, you need to make it right."

One of his agents knocked timidly on his door, holding a file and Booth waved him in, perusing it quickly while Cam proceeded to update him on the case from the lab's end.

"Cam, I've got stuff to go over with you guys too so I'll head over there now. Bye," he didn't wait for her to respond, but snapped the phone shut and got on his way.

"Good work," he said, stopping at the bullpen, "You guys can take off for the night."

He made eye contact with each one of them, apologizing silently for his earlier temper tantrum. None of them argued about getting off two hours early and there was a loud scuffle as they started gathering their things to leave. Satisfied that he'd set at least one thing right today, he palmed the dice in his pocket and took off for the parking garage.

From the minute he stepped through the automated double doors he knew he had his work cut out for him. The recycled air felt just a little cooler and he caught all of the stolen glances as he strode through the lab. Like kids, they might not know what was really going on but they knew Mom and Dad were fighting and were acting like they'd figured out it was his fault.

The senior squints on the platform were a different story. If the squinterns were like kids, the squints were like rabid in-laws. They most definitely knew exactly how he'd treated her and were ready to defend their-

"Oh, crap," he muttered out loud as he caught sight of his father-in-law standing on the platform too.

Cam, Angela, and even Hodgins to a lesser extent, were glaring at him; arms crossed, challenging him. Max, meanwhile, flashed him a feral grin, waving casually. The artificial light made something in Max's hand gleam just as Booth's sharp eyes caught the profile of Christopher Columbus on the coin. No further threat was necessary.

Hodgins' chin flicked up slightly and Booth tracked the bug man's gaze up to Bones' office just before he reached the platform. Booth gave a quick nod in thanks, changing direction before the rest of the squints could jump him or Max could go for his copper pipe.

He took a deep breath just outside her door and plunged in, "Bones, I'm sorry, you-" he realized they weren't alone, "-you called _Sweets_ on me?"

The kid took one look at Booth's stunned face and shook his head, "I'm here at the behest of Agent Perotta. Is there something between you two we need to discuss?"

Bones said, "No," at the same time Booth said, "Nothing."

"Oh, come on guys," Sweets looked between the two of them before settling on Booth, "I know you didn't come here to see her for nothing."

"_I_ thought he didn't want to see me until I came home," Bones shot before Booth could answer Sweets.

"Yeah, _home_," Booth stressed, "the place with no one to listen in on us." He glared at Sweets.

"The interior of your SUV was private enough and you said nothing then," she reminded him.

"We were on our way to a crime scene," he threw up his hands. "Not the time or place for that kind of conversation."

"If the two of you are having problems separating your personal and professional lives," Sweets butted in, "perhaps it would be good for you to develop some sort of catch phrase or gesture to convey your anger."

A smirk played at Booth's mouth and widened when he caught Bones' eye and knew she was thinking the same thing. They simultaneously flipped Sweets the bird.

"Nice," Sweets rolled his eyes, disgusted. "Very mature."

"Perhaps you would prefer I do this," Bones held up three fingers, "and told him to read between the lines?"

The delivery was so smooth and her timing so perfect, it left the two men staring slack-jawed at her. Booth was the first to recover, closing the distance between them.

"That's my girl," he declared, flinging his arm around her and grinning as she tried to duck away from his kiss.

"Seeley," she complained, batting at him.

He caught her hands easily in his, their gazes locking intensely, "I'm sorry, Temperance."

"We'll talk at home," she murmured, not sounding thrilled with him, but not wanting to drag the conversation out in front of Sweets either.

"Deal," he nodded, happy she was giving him that much, then turned to the shrink whose goofy grin lit up his face like a Christmas tree. "Show's over."

Booth grabbed Sweets by the tie and led the sputtering kid out of the room.

"Squints!" He called down to the group still huddled together on the platform, "Conference room in five."


	38. Holding Patterns

Chapter 38: Holding Patterns

The mutual teasing of Sweets coupled with her subsequent successful joke had dissipated the tension enough that she could adequately compartmentalize her feelings once more. Upon her return to the Jeffersonian earlier in the afternoon, she had attempted to do just that but was not as successful as she would have hoped. As a result, Angela was quickly able to ferret out what had happened and by the time Brennan had results for Cam she was far too emotional to convey them to Seeley herself. Perotta and Sweets had been the two people she had been able to conceal her emotions from; though that front was destroyed as soon as Seeley barged into her office apologizing, then complaining about the psychologist's presence. At least Perotta had not been in the room at the time.

While she was grateful that Seeley had come to the lab in person to apologize, his earlier actions were harder to dismiss and more than anything she was curious to know what had provoked such strong emotions in him in the first place. Though he teased her about compartmentalizing her emotions, she had learned throughout the years that he was equally adroit at keeping a handle on his own. Certain topics, however, almost always caused that control to slip, provoking his rage, and she wondered what had been the trigger this time. There was, however, a case to solve, so she set her personal queries aside for the time being and focused on the task at hand.

"I believe these marks," she pointed out the location on the enlarged photographs of Lily Hairston's skull on the monitor, "were made by a gun."

"Even _I_ know that's no bullet hole," Seeley looked bewildered.

"Correct," she grinned, enjoying the moment of superiority, "but I said nothing about a bullet."

"What are you saying?" Perotta wanted to know.

"That each of the victims that Benjamin Hairston mailed to us was struck by the _barrel_ of a gun in such a way as to be fatal," she again pointed to the photograph for emphasis. "As Drs. Bray and Edison concluded previously, the blow originated near the lambdoidal suture, leaving behind this mark. The resultant fractures can be seen radiating out toward the occipital lobe."

"Were there cracks on the other side of the skull too like with Candie's?" Seeley asked, referencing the case involving Maddie, Joey, and Sadie's birth mother.

She nodded, impressed that he remembered.

"Constant surprise, remember?" he smirked, then asked, "So, you're saying these girls were pistol-whipped?"

"In the vernacular, yes, it would appear that way," she nodded.

"Can you figure out the type?" was his next question.

"The mark seems to be quite distinctive," she nodded again, "so we should be able to identify the exact make and model of the gun used. Angela is working on possible scenarios as to what position the killer and victims were in at the time of the attacks."

"Yeah, that could take a little bit," Angela put in, frowning, "So far I'm having trouble coming up with a scenario given the parameters, but I'll keep at it."

"It's a dead end on the coffin angle too," Hodgins said, as if he'd been waiting to try that particular pun for some time. "It was a long shot. The plaid shirt fragment, though, is a better possibility in terms of getting a lead. I'm just waiting on some of the results to come back. Same story on the gravel I found in her shoes; it's enough to lead us somewhere, just not sure where that is right now."

"You're not the only one," Cam shook her head. "Tox results should start coming in tomorrow; DNA not 'til later in the week. Lots of anti-mortem bruising, though; not to mention I found seminal fluid in more than one place."

"You mean-" Brennan started.

"We all know what she means, Bones," Seeley's face was pained. "Guy was a double perv. Matches up with what the earlier victims' files had to say."

"Did the MEs then get DNA?" Hodgins asked.

"Only minute traces on the first seven and not always in both cavities," Cam answered. "The rest, including Joelle, had enough to test. Problem was, there was no match in the system, so while this will most likely prove another link between Joelle Wynn and our earlier victims, it might not go much farther than that until we start getting suspects."

"What's the significance of the increase in seminal fluid?" Brennan wondered aloud.

"He either added the sexual assault to his torture regimen," Sweets provided the answer, "or else he was wearing protection at first and stopped. The second scenario is most likely the better fit for where this guy is right now. He's been doing this for over a decade and hasn't been caught yet. His confidence is most likely at an all-time high, so his routines are evolving."

"SOB thinks he's gotten away with it," Seeley's face grew increasingly grimmer as he spoke. "We're going to make sure that comes to an end real soon. If he's getting more lax, that could mean he's messed up this last time and if he did, we'll get him."

"Does the FBI have any leads at this point?" Cam looked between the two agents expectantly.

Perotta shook her head, "There's a reason these were declared cold cases. Any leads from the older ones dried up years ago, and the newer ones are getting us anywhere either. I asked Dr. Sweets to work up a profile based on what we've gotten on this guy so far to see if we can at least narrow our suspect pool that way."

Six sets of eyes turned to Sweets, who reminded Brennan of a deer that had jumped out in front of the SUV once.

"I'm still in the data retrieval phase," he told them, "this case spans over a decade of activity and the victims' socio-economic settings, ethnicities, and geographic locations differ greatly. Finding points of commonality in terms of motive will be extremely challenging."

"I've got my guys sifting through old case files for anything that happened in DC on February twenty-third," Booth added, "see if we can find out what triggered the obsession with that date. Meanwhile," he pulled out a manila folder and opened it, "they did chart out exactly where each victim lived, where they were found, and how long after their disappearance their remains were recovered. No surprise that Joelle's was the shortest time frame between abduction and recovery since Cam's put TOD to within twenty-four hours of when we found her."

"Bug and insect activity says she was in that alley no less than four hours," Hodgins informed them.

"Okay," Cam nodded at him, "you stay on the trace results and let me know as they come in. Angela, see if the Angelator can help give us a clearer murder scenario and let me know once you've determined whether Joelle's bruise patterns match any of the older ones. Dr. Brennan," she paused for the slightest of seconds, "if Agent Perotta doesn't need you, I'd like you to work with Booth plotting out all of the points the FBI gave him while Wendell and Clark hunt down the weapon."

"I don't see how that falls under my area of expertise," Brennan protested.

"Your job is to view the data from an anthropologist's standpoint," Cam said, her tone authoritarian. "Something tells me there are answers to be had in that data and I want two sets of eyes on it that won't look at things the same way. We're looking for patterns of any size, shape, and color, that can help us figure this guy out, people, and I expect full collaboration and no complaints."

Cam waited until acknowledgements were given around the oblong table before giving a curt nod of her own in dismissal.

"What's your paperwork load look like?" Seeley asked as they made their way back to her office.

"Moderate," she replied. "Why?"

He consulted his watch before answering, "Max should've picked up Sadie by now and the two of them were going to work with Parker on his wind tunnel. Parker rode the bus here, but I have to have him back at Rebecca's by five thirty for some dinner with her in-laws. If you can finish your paperwork, we can leave here at five for the night and work on Cam's assignment at home."

"I drove myself," she reminded him, "so I could work an extra half hour while you drop Parker off. "

"Sure," he shrugged.

"And don't think that this means that you do not still need to explain yourself for you actions earlier this afternoon because you do," she warned.

"I know," he said sincerely, "and I will."

She shot him a look that said she expected nothing less of him.

"You want me to grab some food on my way home?" he offered. "I've got coupons for ThaiLand and China Moon."

"While there is no monetary reason for you to need to utilize coupons," she rolled her eyes, sitting down at her desk to begin her paperwork, "you may allow Sadie to select her preference in restaurants."

He nodded with a smile and then proceeded to recline on the couch and study his file. Sometime later, she felt his lips brush the top of her head as he announced it was time for him to leave. After bidding him goodbye and promising to drive safely, she set the timer on her desk for thirty minutes before turning back to her work.


	39. Indisputable Evidence

Chapter 39: Indisputable Evidence

Cam stopped him on his way to Max's teaching lab to make sure that he and Bones were solid enough to work together and to strongly encourage him to weigh his actions more thoroughly in the future. Ticked off forensic anthropologists didn't work as effectively. He assured her that they were good and that he had no plans to repeat his actions in the near future, then threw in an apology for good measure.

As it turned out, however, Cam's concerns were nothing compared to the mini Spanish Inquisition Max had in store for him. By the time the older man had finished, Booth had just enough time to load the kids in the car and book it over to Rebecca's. The glare she had waiting for him told him that two minutes early was cutting it way too close, but Parker didn't seem to notice as he dashed off, promising Sadie that they'd play more come the weekend.

It was quarter of seven before he and Sadie and the boatload of Chinese food made it home.

"Where's Mommy?" Sadie voiced his own thoughts when they discovered the house was empty.

"I'm sure she's just on her way home from work," he tried to convince them both. "Why don't you go set the table while we wait for her?"

He heard a car outside as she dashed off to the kitchen and got to the blinds in time to see tail lights zipping past the house. He dug out his cell phone.

"Hello," her voice greeted him, "You've reached Dr. Temperance-"

With a sharp snap he closed the phone, then got another idea. Angela picked up after three rings and assured him that Bones had left at precisely five thirty with no indications that she was going anywhere but home.

He was about two seconds away from calling the GPS service to have them track down her car when the familiar rumbling of the garage door sounded.

"Mommy!" Sadie squealed, dashing for the door that separated the house from the garage and waiting there like an eager puppy.

The little girl pounced on Bones when she finally emerged, nearly causing her to drop her armful of stuff.

"Whatcha got there, Bones?" he intercepted her, grabbing a long cardboard tube from her before it dropped to the floor.

"Supplies for Cam's assignment," she answered, dumping the load onto the couch.

"And the coffee and Oreos are for…" he arched a teasing eyebrow.

"Fuel," she huffed, snatching them from him. "Feel free to continue your mockery if you do not wish to partake of them."

"Partake, huh?" he followed her into the kitchen. "Sometimes I think you're deliberately squinty with me, Dr. Temperance Brennan. Now, does someone need a refresher course on the fruitlessness of using definitive tones with me?"

She glared at him and stuck out her tongue.

"Um," Sadie spoke up, tapping his leg just as he was going after Bones, "can you guys just kiss already so we can eat? My tummy's _really_ hungry!"

Booth broke into a belly laugh, swinging Sadie up above his head before settling her on his hip.

"What do ya say, Bones?" he stuck his lips out for a peck."

"I say that Sadie is correct," she smiled slyly. "It's far past time to eat."

With that, she headed into the dining room, leaving him with no kiss and a giggling five year old in his arms.

Dinner conversation was light and lively and centered mostly around the wind tunnel Sadie had helped Parker work on. The little girl was fascinated to discover that Bones had built a similar tunnel with Max when she was Parker's age, and the little girl claimed that that was exactly what she wanted to do when she got old enough for the science fair.

After dinner, Sadie bummed a couple of Oreos off Bones, played with her toys for a while, then negotiated her way into getting two bedtime stories in spite of the fact that it was way past her bedtime.

"Daddy," she asked once the lights were off and they were tucking her into bed, "how come I only have one grandpa?"

The question caught him off-guard and he looked to Bones for help.

"What do you mean?" Bones asked.

"Most of the kids at school have two grandpas, but we only talk about one of mine," she said instantly. "How come?"

"Because he-" Booth stopped, unsure of how to describe his father to Sadie without scaring her.

"He is not a very kind man," Bones stepped in to his relief.

"But Gramma Booth is," Sadie smiled, though she'd only met the other woman once in the past three year. "She sends fun cards to me and stickers too!"

"Yes," Bones nodded, "and your Aunt Beth and Uncle Jared are kind as well."

"Uncle Jared's funny," she giggled, "he snores really loud."

"Yeah, well, it's time for you to snore really loud too, Little One," Booth tucked her back under the covers.

She didn't complain and two minutes later, he and Bones finally left the room.

"I'm going to shower and change out of this monkey suit," he announced. "Wanna join me?"

"Not this time," she smiled, "we have actual work that needs to be accomplished tonight."

They shared a smirk and parted ways. Ten minutes later, he emerged, feeling relaxed and refreshed and ready to get to work. Bones, it looked like, was ready too. The living room looked like it'd been transformed into a mini command center. She'd attached a map of DC to his big Post-it note easel and the large tablet itself was open and spread out horizontally on the couch; a line of victim's photos spanning the length of it. Other supplies lay neatly stacked on the couch, waiting for them.

"Mmm, smells good in here," he inhaled, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist as she puttered around the kitchen.

She'd changed too, he noticed, hands roving the soft material of her sweat pants and t-shirt. Spinning her gently around, he paused as their eyes met.

"I believe I owe you that explanation now," he told her.

Wordlessly, she nodded, then took his hand and led him down to the basement. The coffee and cookies were waiting for them and she settled down on the couch, looking up at him expectantly. He sat down beside her and took a cautious sip of his coffee. It was delicious, but he set the mug aside when he realized the caffeine wasn't doing his nerves any favors.

"I'm sorry," he started slowly, "I wasn't mad at you and I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you."

What happened?" she asked in a voice that neither condoned nor condemned him and, if anything, sounded curious. "Your rage is usually very well contained."

"You picked up on that, huh?" he gave a lopsided grin.

"Several years ago, yes," she nodded, "though it seems to have dissipated as time has progressed and is not as easily evident as it once was."

He took a dep breath and released it, then began telling her what he'd heard Peters and the other men say about him. He almost left out what they'd said about her too, but decided she deserved the truth.

"What triggered the rage specifically," she asked when he'd finished, lacing her fingers with his, "the implications involving you and your career or me and mine?

"Mine, I think," he said after a moment. "My old man used to love telling me what a loser I was and how I'd never amount to anything. I don't like people saying that kind of stuff about me."

"Your father was incorrect, as were Agent Peters and his compatriots," she looked at him in a way that compelled him to meet her gaze.

"You were an above average athlete in high school, were you not?" he nodded and she continued. "And during your military career you were decorated several times over, including being a recipient of the Medal of Valor if I'm not mistaken?" She wasn't, but she didn't stop there.

"Following the Army," she went on, "you successfully earned a bachelor's degree and began an FBI Agent. In nearly twenty years of service, your record has been impeccable, your actions have been commended by the President himself at times, and you maintain a security clearance far beyond that of a typical Special Agent in Charge. Currently, you are an integral part of a highly successful liaison between the Jeffersonian and the FBI."

"Is that squint speak for sleeping with the boss?" he joked.

"Cam is the boss," she frowned, "or at least she has final say and you're deliberately ignoring my point."

"Which is?"

"All of these things I have listed are facts- indisputable evidence- that neither your father, your co-workers, nor even _you_ can ignore," she spoke passionately, "and none of which speak to a career ill-spent. You are _not_ a loser, Seeley Joseph Booth."


	40. Partners and Patterns

Chapter 40: Partners and Patterns

She watched him take in her words and struggle to accept them.

"Thanks, Bones," he spoke softly, taking her hand in his.

"It's the truth," she repeated, then shifted the conversation to a less weighty topic. "When were you offered the Dallas position?"

"Huh?" he snapped out of his trance-like state and stared at her, confused.

She offered him the package of cookies, "You mentioned that you had turned down a position in Dallas, though I was never aware you had been offered another job."

"Oh, that," he shrugged, taking a stack of cookies and putting the package between them, "I don't know, maybe four or five years ago," then quietly, "the first time."

"Implying that there were subsequent offers?"

"A few," he admitted. "But they stopped asking last year so I think they got the point."

"And you felt this was information I didn't need to be privy to?" she wasn't particularly pleased with this decision.

"The director offers came before we were married," he explained, "and the last few offers have been for me to coordinate cop-squint relations like we have here out West. I didn't figure you'd be into moving across the country so that I could work with another forensic anthropologist."

"You were correct in that assessment," she assured him. "I'm not certain why you would not wish to take over Cullen's position here in DC, however."

"Cullen's job is mostly admin stuff," he made a face, "lots of paperwork, lots of meetings, and very little time in the field. Maybe when I can't physically qualify for fieldwork anymore that'll appeal to me more, but it sounds like a real headache right now. I don't like people thinking I'm a loser," at this his eyes darkened ever so slightly, "or that I'm not giving it my very best because I'm not climbing the ladder. Honestly, though, I love where I'm at. I'm a Special Agent, _In Charge_, so I've got a group of agents to do the grunt work for me, but I'm still the one hitting the streets and doing the bulk of the investigative field work."

"With me," she put in.

A large grin spread across his face, "Yeah, Bones, with you. The work we do together, that's the biggest reason I'm not going anywhere. I mean, why give up a great thing, right? Unless you've had enough of me…" he trailed off, teasing her.

"No," she answered quickly, "I have not. The vast majority of FBI agents I've attempted to collaborate with haven't been anywhere near as capable as you and have acted as if our work as scientists was inferior. They were quite egotistical."

"And you squints were the paragon of humility, I'm sure," he replied dryly, eating another cookie.

She recognized the sarcasm and had to admit he made a good point. Scientists of her caliber did not achieve success by being meek and mild, but rather prided themselves on asserting their intelligence and tended to be rather egotistical in their own right. She remembered a time when she and Booth had not gotten along due to their clashing egos; especially the first time they'd worked together.

"Why is it that I have problems working with other agents," she questioned him, "but not with you?"

"Because we're soul mates destined to be together for all of eternity," he claimed dramatically, leaning forward to snatch her up easily and set her on his lap. "And my FBI hotness turns you on."

"I'm serious," she protested, though she leaned back into his embrace all the same. "Of all of the law-enforcement personal I've interacted with over the years, you continue to be the lone person with whom I successfully connected despite the multitude of differences."

"Bones, when you strip all of the cop and squint stuff away," he said confidently, "we all want the same thing: the truth. Yeah, cops go on gut feelings and squints go on facts, but at the end of the day we both just want to figure out what happened and put the bad guy away for good. You and I work because we stuck with each other long enough to figure that out, and to learn how to respect each other for the strengths we bring to the table and pool our resources."

"That makes sense," she smiled up at him, "though instead of sitting here discussing how well we do our jobs, we should probably start working on our assignment."

"There you go being reasonable again," he returned her smile, pulling her close for a slow kiss before releasing her. "We'll continue _that_ in a few hours."

"Agreed," she smirked, standing to her feet, the sobered. "Seeley?"

"Temperance?"

She looked him in the eye, "The next time you decide to vent your frustrations on me in such a cruel and hurtful manner, you _will_ be sleeping on this couch!"

He had the good sense to look chagrined as he nodded his understanding and helped her clean up their mess.

"So is this where you let me in on why we've been invaded by office supplies?" he asked as they entered the living room, fresh mugs of coffee in hand.

"In order to more readily identify patterns and trends in the data, I thought it would be helpful to map it out physically," she explained, producing three boxes of straight pins and pointing at the map of the city. "Red ones will mark the locations where the bodies were discovered, the blue where the victims originally lived, and green where they were last sighted."

"What about those?" he pointed to the row of pictures attached to the large tablet, which she had spread out horizontally to give them the greatest surface area to work with.

"Those have been arranged in chronological order according to when their deaths took place and can be used to construct a timeline. I have colored index cards that we can fill out and attach to denote estimated time of death and compare it to the date the remains were recovered, as well as when they were sent to the Jeffersonian courtesy of Mr. Hairston."

"Sounds like a plan," he sounded impressed. "So who does what?"

"I thought you would be well-suited to do the map while I work on the timeline," she told him matter-of-factly, not mentioning that she had divided the labor thus because his handwriting was atrocious.

Fortunately, he didn't question her motives, but rather handed her the files of information that she would need and collected the pins. The passage of time became irrelevant as they immersed themselves in the work.

"Hey, Bones," she felt a hand cover her shoulder as she filled out yet another set of index cards, "it's bedtime. We'll get a fresh jump on this in the morning."

"I'm almost done with this set," she told him, not breaking from her task.

"It's after one," he informed her, waiting until she'd finished the line she was writing before plucking the pen from her fingers.

"Hey!" she scowled, "I'm not done yet!"

"Time to sleep," he said firmly, holding the pen up out of her grasp. "We can drop Sadie off at school in the morning and then come back here and pick up where we left off. Hey-" he dropped the pen and intercepted her hand, "no coffee, Bones, bed. Now."

He had a look in his eye that told her he would bodily remove her from the living room if she didn't start moving. Huffing a bit and taking a little longer than was necessary, she neatly set aside her work and organized it.

"Sometime before sunrise, Bones," he complained, tapping his foot as she took the mugs out to the sink to be rinsed.

"You're very impatient," she told him as they walked up the stairs. "You realize that you could have gone to bed and let me finish?"

"Uh uh," he shook his head, "you'd have been up all night and then cranky tomorrow. This way, you're only a little cranky tonight."

They bickered back and forth about her work ethic and his views on getting the proper amount of sleep as they readied for bed, but once ensconced in the warm covers and surrounded by darkness she found her body relaxing and was soon fast asleep.

"Wakey, wakey, Lazy Bones," Seeley's all-too-perky morning voice sounded in her ears, dragging her from the nether-regions of slumber.

She winced at the bright light that was pouring through the window, "What time is it?"

"Nine thirty," he told her. "I took Sadie to school and let Cam know we'd come in when we finished."

"You couldn't have woken me up earlier?" she arched a sleepy eyebrow, the lateness of the morning spurring her to ignore her body's protest for more rest and get moving.

"Apparently we forgot to set the alarm last night," he shrugged. "I just barely got up in time to throw Sadie in some clothes and get her to school."

"Did you pack a lunch?" she asked as she began moving around the room, "Did she have breakfast?"

"Made her a PB&J and tossed some baby carrots in her lunchbox," he nodded. "She drank her milk in the car and wolfed down a package of krimpets."

"Seeley," she rolled her eyes as she dressed, "snack cakes do not count as a nutritious breakfast."

"Never claimed it was nutritious," he pointed out, "and I'm pretty sure those things have less calories than donuts or bagels. 'Sides, it's just one morning. She'll live."

She decided it was fruitless to debate the issue before her first cup of coffee and instead set out in search of her own breakfast. With a banana in one hand and her coffee in the other she moved into the living room to begin working on the timeline once more.

"Booth," she called as the map of DC caught her eye for the first time since he'd added the colored pins, "Seeley!"

"What?" he all but tripped down the steps, entering the room dripping wet, breathless, and completely nude.

"I believe I've found a pattern."


	41. What Goes Around

Chapter 41: What Goes Around…

Waking up that morning was like going through one of those surreal moments where it almost feels like you're dreaming, but you're not. Angry red numbers glared at Booth as he opened his eyes, telling him that he had about fifteen minutes to get himself and Sadie up and out of the house in order for her to be on time for school. Not that teachers gave out tardies to preschoolers, but Bones would want her to be there on time all the same.

His wife, though, was out cold and didn't stir one bit when he got up and started throwing on clothes, so it was going to be up to him. Sadie, of course, was up and probably had been up for a while, and was playing with her toys when he went into her room. She still had her pajamas on, though, and he told her to get dressed quickly so that they could go.

He then double-timed it down the stairs, called Cam to let her know that he and Bones wouldn't be in 'til the afternoon, then threw together a lunch for Sadie, poured her sippy cup full of milk and grabbed a package of snack cakes for the road. She came down dressed in a neon green skirt, a Strawberry Shortcake tank top underneath a blue long-sleeved shirt, and pink and purple striped stockings that Sadie had picked out at the store because they reminded her of her daddy's socks. One look at the clock told him they'd never make it if he had her change so he said nothing and hurried her into her jacket and loaded her into the SUV.

Bones still wasn't up when he got home around nine, but he was hungry from the frantic rushing around so he made himself some breakfast before waking her up. Three eggs, a couple slices of bacon, a cup of coffee, and two Eggo waffles later he decided he should wake up Bones before it got too late and she got grumpy on him.

As it turned out, she was still a little grumpy, but after she finished interrogating him about Sadie's food needs, she let him off the hook and trudged off in search of her own breakfast. He felt tired and grubby now that the morning drama had passed and headed in for a shower. The hot water pounded down on him, coaxing out the last of the tension in his muscles.

Clean and clear-headed, he stepped out of the shower, completely relaxed and ready for whatever the day would bring.

"Seeley!" her voice reached him almost as soon as he turned the bathroom fan off and the earlier tension came rushing back.

He couldn't tell if she was hurt or not, but she sounded like something had surprised her so he sped down the steps to see what was the matter.

"What?" he looked around for the source of trouble and found nothing.

"I think I found a pattern," she said, far more calmly than she had called for him.

"Oh," he said, sucking in air. "Good."

She turned to face him, a smirk immediately cropping up at the right-hand corner of her lips.

"Nice outfit," she arched an eyebrow, "though you might want to pick something else out before we go into the lab."

It was then that he realized he hadn't grabbed anything after hopping out of the shower.

"Didn't you get the memo? It's casual Tuesday," he managed, reaching for a pillow.

"No," she shook her head, clearly enjoying herself as she snatched the pillow up just before he reached it, "no, I didn't. Though I think you've taken the concept a bit too far either way."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it," he fumbled for another pillow and again she got to it before he did.

"Oh, I've tried _it_," her voice became sultry and smooth_, _"and I _do_ like it."

She chucked the pillows behind the couch and moved toward him, fingers starting at his belly button and walking all the way up his chest before she blew a kiss at him.

"Seeley?" she murmured into his ear and he could do little but groan a response. "Go get some clothes on."

"Oh, that's just wrong, Bones," he pouted. "What's the rush?"

"Look at the map," she pointed, "if you notice, there is a-"

"I'm gonna go grab some clothes," he cut her off, shaking his head at how she could go all business on him that fast.

"I believe I suggested that," she called after him.

She was sipping her coffee and finishing up her banana when he came back down, garbed in sweatpants and his favorite black t-shirt.

"Okay," he clapped his hands together, "tell me about this pattern."

"As I started to explain before," she stood up, steering him over to the map and pointing at it, "the red and blue pins appear to form two spirals. For the red pins, the oldest cases form the outer edge and move inward toward the epicenter. With the blue pins, the older cases are in the center and spiral out toward where the reds' center will be. Did you input all of your data?"

He shook his head, "I've got four more sets of pins to put up."

Without any more encouragement, she handed him the three boxes of pins to hold and began rifling through the file until she found where he had stopped the night before. Together they worked to plot the four remaining victims and sure enough, the spiral patterns continued. By the time they entered Joelle Wynn's data, the rings within the red spiral were tighter and the blue edge was almost touching it.

"Something's off," Booth said, taking a step back to look at the map as a whole when they had finished.

Bones squinted her eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the map.

"Well, for one thing neither spiral is complete," she observed. "While they begin at separate locations, they should converge at this point," she put her finger on the map and he could see what she meant. "Though I'm uncertain as to what that implies."

"It means he's not going to stop killing until he gets to where the red center meets the blue outer edge," Booth theorized, "and you can bet the farm that wherever that center is, it's important to him."

"That _is_ a logical conclusion given the previous pattern."

"Look, DC's set up like a wagon wheel, right? So he picks neighborhoods on this side," Booth pointed to the blue pins. "He kidnaps them, keeps them around for his perv cravings, then kills them when he's done, and dumps the bodies on the opposite part of the spiral on this side," he pointed to the red pins."

"And no one suspects anything since the crime scenes are spaced out and seem to occur in random locations," Bones put in. "Particularly since the spirals begin to overlap at this juncture," she pointed to the map again.

"We should take this in for Angela to put on the computer," he suggested, "see if it can find anything we haven't and see if we can predict where the connecting point will be."

"I need to finish the timeline," she said. "It was part of the assignment and I haven't had time to analyze it as a whole either."

"How long do you need?"

"Thirty minutes, perhaps," she estimated.

"Okay," he nodded, "I'm gonna call this in to Cullen and see if my people came up with anything else for us."

He might as well have been talking to the wall, though, because she was knee deep in her notes already and scribbling away furiously on the index cards. Dropping a light kiss on the top of her head he gathered his own notes, along with the map, and headed out to the kitchen to make his calls.

Cullen was more than pleased to hear that they'd finally made headway on the case. The two men discussed different avenues they could explore outside of what Bones and the squints were working on at the lab. The older man ordered Booth to keep him up-to-date on how things unfolded and set up a time for them to meet face to face toward the end of the week.

Booth's next call was to Charlie Burns to see how things were going in the bullpen. It was no surprise that the paperwork was mounting on Booth's desk, but other than that it seemed like things were going okay. Booth let the other agent know what they'd discovered so far and left him with the task of looking up any and all murders in DC during the last twenty years that matched the area around the spirals' epicenter on the map.

As he hung up, he could hear Bones' cell going off on the counter beside him.

"It's Angela," he called into the other room.

"Would you answer it for me?" she called back.

"Sure thing," he flipped the cell open, "Hey Angela, what's up?"

"Where's the good doctor, Studly?" the artist didn't miss a beat. "Did you do naughty fun things to her last night after you groveled for her forgiveness?"

"She's working and I'm not telling," he grinned through the phone, letting her draw her own conclusions. "So, what's up?"

"I was just wondering if the two of you were coming in any time soon?" Angela dropped the teasing for the time being. "We're all headed to Wong Fu's for lunch to compare notes."

"Remember not to let that husband of yours bring any crime scene photos," he warned as he walked toward the living room, "Sid won't be happy if you gross out the lunch crowd."

"I'll remind Jack _and_ Wendell," she promised. "Will you and Bren be in?"

"You almost done, Bones?" he asked.

She was sitting on the floor, concentrating hard on something, but held up both hands at him.

"We'll leave here in about fifteen," he relayed to Angela, giving himself a five minute pad.

They said their goodbyes and rung off.

"Briefing at Wong Fu's," he told Bones.

"Did you remind them about Sid's aversion to crime scene photographs during peak business hours?" she asked without looking up.

"Angela will fleece Wendell and Hodgins before they leave the lab," he confirmed, hooking his hands under her arms and hauling her to her feet.

"How's the ankle?" he asked.

"Stiff, but healing," she replied, then scowled at him. "I've still got one more cared to make up."

"Well, chop-chop, Bones, time's a wastin'!"

She shot him a lesser version of her death glare, but sat on the couch and started scribbling again. Five minutes later she announced that she was done. The two of them changed into more work-appropriate clothes, loaded everything into the SUV, and took off for Wong Fu's.


	42. Talking Heads

Chapter 42: Talking Heads

It took them longer to make their way into the city with the mid-day traffic. Sid greeted them with his customary broad smile.

"Your folks are back here," Sid directed the comment at her with a smirk as they wove around the tables to a large, circular booth tucked away from the main dining area, "just in case."

The restaurateur winked at Seeley, who grinned in return. The big man slipped away as the six people already seated chorused a greeting. Seeley put his hand on her back and ushered her in to sit beside Angela.

"You ever been here, Perotta?" he asked the other agent as he sat down.

The blonde shook her head, "Heard of it; never been, though."

"This place is legendary!" Sweets spoke up from beside Perotta.

"Jack recommends the seven organ soup," Angela teased, eliciting a laugh from the two Booths and a dramatic moan from Jack.

"Where _are_ the menus?" Wendell wanted to know.

"Sid'll bring you what you need, kid," Seeley assured him.

"Don't ask," Cam said at the young doctor's puzzled look, "but it works."

"He's a food psychic," Angela said conspiratorially. "I couldn't eat anywhere but here both times I was pregnant without wanting to toss my cookies."

"There are no such things as genuine psychics, Ange," Brennan felt compelled to put in, "food or otherwise."

"Here we go," Booth rolled his eyes at Perotta as the five from the Jeffersonian plus Sweets fell into a noisy debate on the validity of psychics and the so called "sixth" sense.

The argument was quickly reaching a fevered pitch when the sound of a throat being cleared brought it to a halt. Sid stood perfectly still, like a parent waiting for their rowdy children to settle down. Once they were calm, he stepped aside, revealing several men behind him bearing large trays. One by one Sid served the food he had selected for them, pairing each dish with a complementary drink.

"Uh- you sure about this, man?" Hodgins eyed their host warily.

"You're ready for it now," came the cryptic response.

Saluting him with his spoon, Jack inhaled deeply and dipped into the seven organ soup in front of him.

"Mmm, delicious," he mumbled around the mouthful.

Seeley looking as if the sight of the soup made him queasy and his eyes quickly locked back on the plate of barbecued ribs in front of him. Hodgins' delight seemed to have been the catalyst they all needed to begin their own food and the eating began in earnest.

Requests for condiments and extra napkins punctuated the silence, though by and large they were fully engaged in their meals. As the food dwindled down, however, conversation picked up; the content of which soon shifted from the inane to the case at hand.

Perotta went first and, to Brennan's surprise, was rather open and honest about the challenge her side of the case was presenting. Not only was she encountering difficulties from the original homicide detective- some of whom could not remember the original case and others who were, themselves, dead- but there was also a stream of livid parents who were displeased to no small end with their daughters' unauthorized exhumations.

"The newer cases haven't been quite as hard," the harried agent explained, "but they all have questions that I don't have answers to so even the parents who start out calmer are still upset in the end. We haven't even touched the fact that we're investigating the serial angle."

"What's the picture look like as far as the original investigators are concerned?" Booth wanted to know.

"I've interviewed all but two of the living ones," she sighed, sliding a piece of paper to him across the table. "Apparently my clearance isn't high enough to look these two up. The highlighted ones are the people we were able to interview- for better or for worse- the one with a star has advanced dementia, and the four with check marks are dead."

Brennan studied the paper that Booth set between them, recognizing the fifteen names from the various case files. Only eight had been highlighted.

"This one," she pointed at one of the unmarked names, "Mark Weston. He was the lead detective on Lily Hairston's case."

"Yeah and he was only twenty then," Perotta nodded, "so he must've been fast-tracked to bigger and better things because he falls off the map two years after Lily's case and every move I've made to find him has been blocked."

"I'll see what I can dig up," Booth promised, shifting his gaze to Sweets.

"Your guy is a total sicko," the psychologist said around the last bite of his sandwich.

Booth held up a hand, "Finish chewing and then use as few words like 'sicko' as possible to tell us what you've found."

All eyes were on Sweets as he chewed, swallowed, and took a long draft of the beer in front of him before starting again.

"In my professional opinion this man we're dealing with is very dangerous," Brennan rolled her eyes at Sweets' general opening. "Obviously, February twenty-third marks some crucial life moment for him as he continues to kidnap his victims on that date. I would say with confidence that by now he feels it is a compulsory act; something he feels he _must_ do every year.

"This man is most likely single, though it's possible he had a family of his own at one point. From the injuries his victims sustained, I would determine that his very thorough and precise in his actions. He enjoys control and is obviously intelligent enough to have evaded detection for over a decade now, which as I mentioned the other day is a source of great pride to him."

"Are we looking at a blue or white collar worker?" Seeley wanted to know as Sweets paused for another drink.

"White," the answer came right away, "and with the control issues he's got I wouldn't be surprised if he was lower management, with just enough power to sate him on a daily basis. His self-control, however, is enough that co-workers would perceive him as a tough but fair boss and a generally nice individual."

"But underneath?" Seeley probed when Sweets hesitated.

"Underneath, he harbors a deep reservoir of rage that when he indulges himself, he fully embraces and enjoys," there was not a hint of levity.

"This is pure conjecture," Brennan scoffed.

"On the contrary," Sweets shook his head, passion evident in his tone. "The wounds you've identified on the skeletons are congruent with torture patterns, correct?"

Inn her mind, she could visualize each and every bone fracture, so eerily mirrored on each of the skeletal victims and nodded her reluctant agreement.

"And do the flesh wounds on Joelle Wynn support that as well, Dr. Saroyan?" Sweets turned to the pathologist next.

"Yes," Cam answered without hesitation, "someone wanted her to suffer."

"The point, Sweets," Booth all but ordered. "Now."

"The guy's mega-dangerous," the other man said rapidly. "Most of the year he plays it cool but once a year he lets himself go. He tortures, rapes, and then kills when he's done with them."

"No," Brennan watched her husband cut Sweets off as understanding dawned in her partner's eyes, his voice barely audible amidst the restaurant's ambient noise. "Not when he's done with them- when they've broken. Bones," he turned to meet her eyes. "You found a time disparity right? Between how long each girl was kept after they were kidnapped?"

"Yes."

"It's because not every girl took the same amount of time to break," he addressed the entire table again, his mouth set in a grim line, "but he kept going at them until they did." He looked to Cam, "Were these girls drugged during their captivity or just at the time of kidnap?"

"Joelle's tox screen showed she was given the same drug cocktail as the others," Cam told him, "and given the amounts that we've found in her hair too, I'd say it's a solid bet that it was administered several days before she was killed, then metabolized out."

Temperance could tell that a picture was forming in Seeley's mind as he nodded at Cam's words; though exactly what it was wasn't clear to _her_ at the moment. Wendell relayed that he had identified the weapon- a KORA Brno, whose barrel was quite distinctive and matched the marking on the bone precisely- and again Seeley merely nodded, no doubt adding that factor to his mental inventory.

The group's focus shifted to Angela, who looked as frustrated as Perotta had. The artist informed them that she had two possible scenarios, but that neither of them "felt" right to her no matter how plausible they were mathematically. Seeley thanked her, then suggested they all return to the Jeffersonian and view the simulations first-hand.


	43. Baby Steps

Chapter 43: Baby Steps

"Okay," Angela's voice brought the chatter around her to a halt, "here's what the data says _could_ have happened to Lily Hairston."

The 3-D image of the girl appeared, along with an average-size man holding a gun.

"Here," a red line appeared on the girl's head as Angela narrated, "is the lambdoidal suture, where we know the fatal blow was dealt. In this first scenario, she's on the floor."

The image of the girl shifted so that she was no longer standing, but huddled in a ball on the floor. The man, slightly shorter now, pistol-whipped her, causing a gasp to circulate around the room.

"The angle is weird on this one, though," Angela picked up the commentary where she'd left off, "and not natural. Plus at this height his physical characteristics don't match what he'd need to have in order to inflict some of her other injuries."

"You said you have a second possibility?" Cam asked.

The artist nodded and the figures dissolved and reformed once again. This time the man was taller and the girl was standing just below him on a flight of stairs. At Angela's touch, the scene sprung to life. The fatal strike was delivered and the simulated Lily fell back and crumpled like a rag doll at the bottom of the stairs. Booth swallowed hard, suppressing the part of his heart that belonged to his two little girls.

"What's off about this one?" he managed, not aiming the question at anyone in particular.

"For one thing, there were no injuries congruent with that fall," Bones was the one who answered him before she turned to Angela. "What seems to be the most difficult factor in conjuring a plausible scenario? "

"The angle of the hit, not to mention the location of the skull where she was struck," Angela replied.

Booth stared at the image, blocking out the squint theories being debated around the room. Someone requested Angela show the exact angle that the arm needed to be at in relation to the skull and she complied. A few taps of her keypad later and the new image was in front of them.

Brennan's eyes, to her husband's amusement, turned to slits as she concentrated on the Angelator's display, while the crowd around them continued to voice their opinions. Following her gaze, he tried to put together all of the puzzle pieces they had so far.

"Is that angle the same on all of the girls or just Lily?" he asked above the clamor.

"Give or take a few degrees," as Angela spoke again the room quieted.

"So whatever he did, he's done it every time," Booth thought aloud. "We know that every girl's been drugged, kidnapped, and tortured until they broke-"

"At which point they were killed," Bones cut in, "and their bodies were disposed in a strategic location."

Booth's acknowledgement was a small smile, his mind whirring with all of the factors they knew about the killer so far.

"Don't forget he enjoys inflicting pain," Sweets put in. "It might even serve as a stimulus for him."

"Angela!" The word came out harsher than Booth had intended as a horrible realization hit him, "What if he was sitting up?"

"Sitting?" she echoed, fingers flying over the hand-held pad.

He nodded, gut screaming he was onto something.

"Have her kneeling in front of him," he swallowed hard, "facing him."

Conversation ground to a stunned halt as the scene coalesced in front of them. Once more the faceless man struck the girl, killing her.

"That's it," Booth said with a sad certainty.

"But why would the girls been kneeling in front of him like that?" Bones asked, the innocence in her voice contrasting starkly with what they'd just witnessed.

Booth closed the small gap between them, whispering in her ear the sickening conclusion that the rest of the room had clearly drawn already. Her mouth formed an "O" in understanding before revulsion at the thought crossed her features unchecked.

"This is one of those times when I really hate this job," Angela shook her head, abruptly shutting the Angelator down and raising the lights.

A sympathetic murmur sounded from all but Booth and Brennan, sapping the team's morale as it went.

"Stop!" Booth ordered, causing heads to snap to attention. "Yeah, this is a guy who makes me sick. He deserves to be castrated three ways from Sunday with a rusty blade. It's not going to do us any good, though, to get distracted by the horror of it and miss him in the meantime. We need to focus on building a solid case against him so that when he has his day in court he goes down for life if not the needle."

"We don't even know who his is," Angela said dejectedly, "or where he's operating out of. Usually by this time we've got something. What good does it do us to know what he did if we never find him?"

"We will," Booth said with more confidence than he felt.

"He's managed to stay hidden for over a decade," Bones spoke up from beside him, "but I'm confident in our team's ability to succeed where inferior investigations have failed."

"Bones and I found a pattern in how he picks his victims and where he dumps them," Booth moved to the map they had brought in from the SUV, unfurling it for all to see. "We're getting closer."

"The soil content on Joelle's shoes matched what was on Lily's," Hodgins volunteered, managing a half-hearted smile. "It's not unique enough to get us a location, but if we find the place, we'll have reference samples to compare it to."

"Anything else?" Booth asked.

"I found traces of motor oil on that scrap of shirt that was found at your crime scene," Hodgins answered. "After running it through the mass spec, I tried to visually compare the hydrocarbons in the raw total ion chromatograms and smoothed total ion chromatograms to see if I could match it to the car it came from."

"You can do that?" Perotta asked.

"Oh yeah," Hodgins' head bobbed up and down excitedly. "It's a proven forensic application. Though in this case I had to go one step further and analyze the polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons content using extracted ion profiles-"

"Did you figure out what kind of motor it came from?" Booth cut the bug man off before he launched into a mini-lecture.

"A '93 Jetta," Hodgins gave him his best mad-scientist grin, "and one in sore need of an oil change I might add."

"Right," Booth said absently, pulling out his notebook and jotting that tidbit down.

He sensed the restlessness in the room as he looked up, his eyes sweeping over the weary group. "We'll get this guy," he promised, "the same way we always do. It might take a little longer than we're used to, but we'll do it.

"Angela, you and Perotta get all of the map data Bones and I plotted into the computer and see what else you can get from it. Sweets, go back to the Hoover and see if any of the suspects from the older cases fit your profile. Hodgins, Cam, Wendell- keep on the forensics; the more pieces of the puzzle we have, the better."

The room emptied as if someone had pulled the plug from a drain.

"What are you and I going to do?" Bones wanted to know as the two of them entered her office.

"I need to start tracking down Perotta's missing detectives," he offered her a smile, threading his fingers loosely with hers as they sat down on the couch. "You're more than welcome to tag along, but I thought you might have other work to do."

"You thought correctly," she confirmed, idly tracing his rough thumb with her softer one. "I need to catch up on some of my museum responsibilities, not to mention that," she jerked her free thumb in the direction of her desk, whose inbox was overflowing.

"Yeah," he snorted lightly, head leaning back to rest on the back of the couch, "the paperwork back at my office is probably breeding like bunnies by now."

She laughed softly at him, shaking her head but joining him in his brief respite.

"So," he forced himself to his feet two minutes later, kissing her fingers as he released them, "I'll pick up Sadie on my way to work since it's almost three. How much lab time will you need tonight?"

"If I start now," she said, standing up beside him, "I should be done no later than five-thirty. You will most likely have more office work to complete than I will, though, so I'll walk over to the Hoover when I'm done."

He folded his hands across his chest and fixed her with a look. She met it, her hands planting themselves firmly on her hips, silently defiant.

"Fine," he conceded with one final raised eyebrow, "but call me when you're about to leave."

She nodded, a triumphant smirk on her face knowing that she'd gotten her way this time. Moving quickly to the other side of her desk she dropped down behind it and he could hear her fiddling with one of the many drawers.

"Will this set your mind at ease?" another smirk lit her face as she stood up, waving her find around.

"Geez, Bones, put that thing down before you get us both killed!"

"It's not loaded," she showed him.

"I thought we agreed that that gun is way too big for you," he frowned.

"It is," she shrugged casually, setting the monster down on her desk with a thud, "but as you _still_ will not grant me a government-issued firearm, I am forced to arm myself. Normally, I keep it here in case of emergencies, however you seemed concerned for my safety so I thought this might grant you a modicum of relief."

"You walking down the streets of DC with those armor-piercing shells ready to shoot things doesn't spell 'relief' for me, Bones," he said dryly.

Their eyes locked again and he realized he wasn't going to win any rounds with her today. Releasing his pent-up breath with a whoosh he rolled his eyes and pulled his significantly smaller, personal revolver from his ankle holster and offered it in exchange. She nodded curtly in acceptance, locked the bazooka back in whatever depths it had come from, and took his.

"Drive safely," she smiled sweetly, tucking the gun out of sight.


	44. Comes Around

**Sorry for the delay. The family got knocked down by a nasty sinus cold so today's the first time in days I haven't felt like my head's going to implode. Hope it's worth the wait! Drop me a line.**

**Gum :)**

* * *

Chapter 44:…Comes Around 

"Care to tell me why your husband left the lab muttering dark curses on Brennan stubbornness?" her father walked through the open door of her office and sat down across the desk from her.

"I'm walking to the Hoover when I'm done here," she said by way of explanation.

"You armed?"

"Yes," she discreetly revealed Seeley's revolver.

"Good," he smiled, "you'll be fine."

"That's what I told him," she nodded. "I'm a good shot."

A wry smile appeared on his face by the said nothing and they lapsed into an odd silence. She went back to responding to her intra-office e-mail, wondering if it would be considered rude if she asked him to disclose the purpose of his visit.

"I was wondering if the four of you would like to come over for dinner on Saturday?" the words tumbled from his lips so quickly she barely had enough time to decipher them before he looked expectantly at her.

"The four of us?"

"Yeah, Booth has Parker this weekend, right? So there will be four of you." He hesitated for a moment, "That is, unless you're already busy."

"I'm not certain," she answered honestly, brow wrinkling in frustration at an e-mail from a grad student who clearly was not intelligent enough to follow simple orders. "I'll consult with Seeley and get back to you," she promised her father.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him hesitate just as he left, but he said nothing and walked away, leaving her to her work. Over the next two hours she finished replying to all of her e-mails, consulted with the museum's curator on a new exhibit that she'd had a hand in researching, and inspected the work that she had left to her interns earlier in the day. A chime on her computer sounded just as she was packing the last of her paperwork into her bag.

"Hello?" she answered, opening the video chat request.

"Hi," Maddie's small voice came over the speakers as her face came into focus.

Temperance smiled warmly, "Maddie! This is a surprise. How are you?"

"I'm okay," Maddie insisted, though her facial muscles said otherwise, "I was kinda wondering if you had time to help me with my science fair project?"

"I have to meet you dad and Sadie soon, but I have a few minutes," she offered. "Or I could call you back once I get home?"

"Now's good," Maddie shook her head vigorously.

Maddie's questions were simple and fairly straightforward, so much so that Temperance began to doubt that science was the area the Maddie truly needed advice on, but she listened and answered her questions nevertheless.

"Is there anything else?" she asked when it had appeared Maddie asked her final question.

For a moment it seemed as if the girl was going to deflect the question but instead, she softened.

"You're really smart, right, Mom?" Maddie asked.

"My IQ is far above the recognized norms, yes. Why?"

Maddie looked around as if to make sure no one off-camera was listening in, "Did kids ever, you know, make fun of you when you were in school?"

"Yes," she answered truthfully, but gently, "children can be quite cruel."

"Yeah," Maddie agreed, the veneer of quiet control giving way to hurt.

"What happened?" she asked cautiously.

"Some of the kids give me funny looks because I know all of the answers in class," Maddie confided, her eyes constantly darting off-camera as if she expected to be overheard. "They tease me when I use big words too."

"Do you get along with any of the girls in your student home?"

The girl's shoulders rose and fell, "Sort of. Sometimes. Not as much when the house parents aren't around."

There was something Maddie wasn't revealing but Temperance couldn't determine exactly what it was and suddenly the physical distance between them felt vast. She was certain that if they were in the same room she could take Maddie into her arms and coax the whole truth from her.

"If someone is hurting or mistreating you, you should tell your house parent," she advised. "Or tell me so that I can talk with them on your behalf."

"Really?" the first hint of a genuine smile graced Maddie's lips. "You'd do that?"

Memories of foster parents who had failed to do the same thing for her came unbidden despite the years that had passed and the accomplishments she had achieved since then.

"I would be remiss in my role as your guardian if I didn't," she replied sincerely.

On the other side of the camera, Maddie took a deep breath and opened her mouth- then just as quickly closed it, her eyes darting to the right. Her hand shot out, covering the camera lens, the soft click of the laptop being closed sounding just before the connection was severed. Temperance sat in front of the screen for a long moment, contemplating whether or not she should call the student home right away.

A glance at the computer's clock told her that five-thirty had come and gone fifteen minutes ago. It was not as if Maddie was in any immediate physical danger and calling right away might excaberate the situation. Her best course of action, she decided, would be to contact the home once the students were in bed.

With that in mind, she packed up the remainder of her work, powered down the computer, and left. Outside, a cool April breeze wrapped around her as she set out for the Hoover building and she dug into her coat pocket for her cell phone.

"Only six calls?" she asked her very flustered husband when he answered. "Any less and I might not think you're living up to your alpha-male reputation."

"Please tell me you're in the elevator on your way up here?" Seeley did not sound diverted by her attempted humor.

"I will be," she told him, "in approximately ten to fifteen minutes."

"Bones, where are you?" there was no effort to mask his concern. "And why was your phone off?"

"My phone was off because the battery's low and I left my charger in the SUV," she explained easily. "And my departure was delayed by a video call from Maddie, so your concern for me is unfounded."

"What'd Maddie want?" she heard him ask as she hurried to cross at the congested intersection, keeping her eye out for vehicles not adhering to the traffic signals.

"I'm not certain," she answered when she reached the curb safely. "She had to leave before she could relay the exact reason for her call."

Horns blared around her, drowning out Seeley's response, and her phone's battery indicator light flashed red.

"My battery's dying, Seeley," she spoke loudly over the noise, unsure if he could hear her, "I should be at the Hoover momentarily."

Snapping the near-useless phone closed, she tucked it back in her jacket and increased her pace. Minutes later, the large building that housed the DC Bureau came into view. She made her way easily through the myriad security checkpoints and into the lobby. Seeley was on the far side, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger while Sadie sat in one of the overstuffed chairs coloring while they waited.

She was just about to call out to him when she caught sight of Agent Peters exiting one of the elevators and moving to the same area of the lobby as her husband. Unimpressed by the man who thought himself to be a better agent than Booth, she hastily dumped her bulky bag and coat onto a nearby chair, released her hair from its confining ponytail, and unfastened the top two buttons of her blouse.

A smirk curled around her lips as she adopted the same mannerisms she had years ago as Roxie back in Las Vegas, being sure that when she sauntered past Agent Peters and his companions, they noticed her.

"Seeley," she called slightly louder than was necessary.

As predicted, he whirled around toward the sound of her voice, placing him in precisely the correct place for her to accost and kiss him before he had a chance to speak. She did so with dramatic flourish, deepening the kiss and holding him to her by his belt loops when he attempted to pull away. When she felt a sufficient enough amount of time had passed so as to erase all doubt that she was an emotionally distant scientist, she released him and stepped back.

"How was your afternoon?" she adopted a conversational tone, ignoring his stunned look as well as the whispered frenzy her entrance had sparked. "Were you able to accomplish as much as you'd hoped?"

"Uh huh," he nodded slowly, still obviously taken aback by her greeting.

"Mommy!" Sadie abandoned her coloring and launched herself into Temperance's arms.

Keeping her manner easy, she picked up the little girl, hugging her tightly, then set her on her hip and looked up at Seeley.

"Are you ready to go home?" she asked unnecessarily.

It was then that Seeley caught sight of Agent Peters standing nearby, mouth still slightly agape. Smothering a smirk of his own, Seeley made eye contact with the other agent, waved in what could be interpreted as a condescending way, and placed his hand at the small of her back.

"Yeah, Bones. Let's go."


	45. People Problems and Paperwork

Chapter 45: People Problems and Paperwork

The entire ride back he kept stealing glances at her; just to make sure he was taking the right woman home. They chatted lightly about their respective afternoons and for the most part listened to Sadie narrate every small detail of her day, giving him plenty of time to consider what had happened.

From day one of their romantic relationship, Bones had been adamant about keeping their personal and professional lives separate. Even once they were married and back in DC he'd had to negotiate long and hard to be allowed to steal kisses every now and then.

They kept themselves above reproach so that no defense attorney, juror, or either one of their bosses could have any reason to discredit them or split them up. Most of the time she even went so far as to call him Booth at work and Seeley once they were alone; or if she was particularly mad at him. The very last thing he'd expected when she'd called out his name was for her to look all steamy and sexy and plant a big wet one on him in the middle of the _very_ public lobby of the J. Edgar Hoover building.

"Is something wrong?" she asked once Sadie had been tucked in bed for the night. "You've been acting strangely all evening."

_"I've_ been acting strangely?" he cocked an eyebrow and looked at her, knowing full well she wasn't that naïve and was rewarded with a soft tinge of pink that crept up her cheeks.

She cleared her throat, "Males tend to rank themselves hierarchically according to perceived sexual prowess. Public displays of affection can be indicators of what a couple's private life consists of and, by extension, how great or small one's prowess is."

"You made out with me in the Hoover lobby to make me look good in front of the other guys," he translated, sifting through the words he did know to explain the ones he didn't.

"I doubt Agent Peters and his companions will be speaking ill of you again any time soon," she smirked.

And there it was. She had remembered what he'd told her about Peters and had exacted the perfect revenge, even taking the time to pack it in squinty logic so that she could justify it.

"Thanks, Bones," he smiled, tucking her still-loose hair behind her ear.

"My motives weren't entirely altruistic," she spoke softly, the barest hint of a shadow crossing her face.

He sat down on the plush living room armchair, tugging her gently onto his lap and waiting for her to explain.

"I know what my reputation at the Bureau is," she said finally. "Our professional record has garnered me a grudging amount of respect, but by and large agents see me as a coldly rational scientist who feels little or no emotions."

He opened his mouth to protest and she shook her head, placing a light finger on his lips, "Unpleasant as it is we both know it to be true and while most of the time I do not dwell on it, on occasion I do feel the emotional sting that accompanies such censure."

He pulled her further into his embrace, equal parts anger and shame welling up in him. Anger at those who had hurt her and shame because less than a decade ago he'd been one of them; back before he'd taken the time to discover just how deeply she felt and cared about the victims that they worked with.

"Nothing cold about the way you greeted me tonight," he threw a charm smile at her to lighten the mood. "And I promise not to complain one bit if that's how you want to start saying hi from now on."

The elfin gleam in her eyes told him she had thoroughly enjoyed letting loose like that in public for a change. This time he was the one to close the gap between them, capturing her lips with his and kissing slowly at first, but gaining momentum the longer they remained attached. One hand moved through the silky tresses of her hair while the other settled at the small of her back where her shirt didn't quite extend down to her jeans.

Eventually they separated and she settled back into the crook of his arm and sighed contentedly. Idly, she twined her fingers with his and traced the thick gold wedding band with her thumb. He returned the gesture, admiring how perfectly the twin dolphin engagement ring matched the slim platinum wedding ring. So many promises and emotions bound up in such tiny pieces of metal.

"I spoke with Maddie earlier," she broke the comfortable silence.

"Yeah, I caught that," he nodded, "though not much more. What did she want?"

"She asked for help with her science fair project at first, but as the conversation went on she revealed that she has been teased by some of the other children in her class because of how well she performs." Bones frowned, "I believe that she was about to reveal something even more serious, however, she apparently felt her privacy was being infringed upon on her end of the conversation and she terminated the transmission before she was able to share anything else.

"I thought it would be prudent to wait until after the girls would be in bed to contact her house parents. When I offered to speak with them on her behalf she seemed surprised but relieved so I would not feel as if we were breaking a confidence."

"Yeah," Booth agreed, "they need to know what's going on; if anything."

"It's something," she insisted. "Something that bothered Maddie enough to take the initiative and contact me at the office rather than waiting a few days for our regular correspondence."

"You want to do more than just talk, don't you?" he asked, tracing her jaw line with his fingers.

"I want," she hesitated, sighing softly. "I know what it is like to be ridiculed publically and I want to be there for her; to offer the same physical comfort my mother offered me when I was Maddie's age and help her maintain a proper prospective when it comes to listening to others' opinions." Her eyes intensified to a deep blue-gray, focusing on his, "Since her youngest days Maddie has been subjected to rejection and ridicule, at times from the very people who should have been her protectors. So yes, I want to do more than simply ask someone else to solve the problem."

She fell quiet, leaning into his embrace for support so he held her.

"We have paperwork that needs to be done," she declared a few minutes later, springing from his lap as if she'd been on hot coals.

"How about this," he stood to join her, "you call the school and tell them what you know about Maddie and I'll scare us up some coffee and brain food?"

"Brain food?" she questioned him skeptically.

"Trust me, Babe" he grinned, pecking her on the cheek.

"Go on," she shoved him playfully away, "and don't call me Babe!"

They shared a smile before going their separate ways. He could hear her talking as he started the coffee and began scouring the kitchen for food. The pitch of her voice rose and fell as the conversation went on and more than once he had to stop himself from jumping in to offer his help. Eventually, he heard her hang up and he turned his focus back toward the food.

"I'm impressed," she complimented as he set the plateful of sliced pears, apples, cheese, and crackers on the coffee table in front of her.

Her eyebrows rose even further when he brought out two glasses of wine and handed one to her.

"Coffee's done but this'll go better with the food," he answered her unspoken question. "So what'd they say?"

"They'll question Maddie discreetly tomorrow and proceed from there," she said, clearly not satisfied.

He was going to respond but she reached for her files and began working so he let it go. They worked side-by-side until her head began to droop. Confiscating her files and absorbing the half-hearted jabs to his ribs, he informed her that they were done for the night. When that failed to stem her verbal assault he cut her off with a kiss designed to take her mind far away from work-related issues.

"I hate it when you do that," she panted when they came up for air.

"No you don't," he countered, kissing her again.

She kissed back with double the intensity, her competitive nature rising to his challenge as they battled back and forth for control. Clothes were shed piece by piece in a scramble up the stairs and into their room. He ended up on the bottom.

The next morning at six when the alarm when off he groaned.

"Stay," he murmured into her ear, keeping her under the covers with him when she moved to get up. "Play hooky."

"You realize that if I acquiesced every time you asked we'd never go to work?"

"And the problem is?" he nuzzled the soft skin of her neck.

"You'd lose your job."

"And the problem is?" he trailed his hands down her bare back.

"You'd become bored after 48 hours and become impossible to live with," she teased, resisting his advances.

"Oh, I'd think of _something_ to do," he waggled his eyebrows and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "or some_one_."

"Seeley," she put her hands flat against his chest. "Seeley?"

"Yes, Temperance?"

"We have a daughter to take to school and a serial killer to apprehend before he kills again."

The last thought was enough to bring reality crashing back in around him and he sighed as she dropped one last kiss on his lips and left the bed.

"Would you go pick up our clothes before Sadie gets up?" she asked from the shower.

Reluctantly he left the warmth of the covers and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before leaving the room. He smirked at the trail of clothes that went all the way down to the living room; though finding her silky thong did nothing for his early morning libido. Neither did returning to the room to find his wife just emerging from the shower.

"Don't worry," she smirked as she took the clothes from him and put them in the hamper. "I left plenty of cold water for you."


	46. In Limbo

**Hello, all! Well, it took my muse and I a little longer to recover from Thanksgiving vacation than I'd anticipated, but we're back and hopefully better than ever. Lemme know what you think!**

**Gum**

* * *

Chapter 46: In Limbo

"I know I've said it before, Bren," Angela commented as they exited Cam's morning meeting, "but that man of yours is still sex on a stick."

"He is quite aesthetically pleasing," Brennan allowed herself a small smile as they observed the FBI agent's figure retreating through the sliding lab doors.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Hodgins complained from behind them.

"You're cute, Hodgie," Angela laid a reassuring hand on his forearm, "but you'll never pull off a three-piece suit like that."

"Like any of us could," Wendell muttered, joining the group.

"It's his 'taking care of business' suit," Temperance informed them. "Apparently he believes it will be necessary to procure the classified information Agent Perotta could not."

Angela and Wendell ducked their heads to hide a smile and Hodgins suddenly found something very interesting to look at in the file folder he was holding while Perotta, just emerging from the conference room, scowled and bit the inside of her cheek.

"Okay people, back to work," Cam broke the awkward silence.

Angela and Perotta started back toward the artist's office, Hodgins moved to his station, and Wendell mounted the steps to the forensic platform. After a brief return to her office to confirm that her presence was not required elsewhere, Temperance donned her lab coat and set off for a morning in bone storage.

"Tempe," her father intercepted her before she could reach her destination, "About Saturday-"

"I haven't had a chance to consult with Seeley," she interrupted him, not wanting to seem rude but knowing that her time in bone storage would be limited.

"Oh," he sounded deflated.

A twinge of guilt struck as she realized that she had not even recalled the request until he'd approached her.

"I'll inform you as soon as I know," she promised, attempting to sound more genuine.

Max managed a smile and a nod, leaving before she could add anything further.

Any second thoughts she may have had slipped away as soon as she walked through the bone storage doors and pulled out one of the plastic tubs. With latex-gloved hands she gently removed each bone and arranged them on the cold, stainless steel table until the full skeleton took shape. Then she began her analysis, beginning with the metatarsals and working her way up to the collection of skull fragments. Each bone told her something new about the person they belonged to and she chronicled her findings on her clipboard as she went.

The skull fragments came last and required the most attention. Decades of resting unprotected in a mass grave had left its mark on them, she mused, dabbing the Elmer's glue carefully as she began the reconstruction. It irked her that a majority of the damage had come at the hands of a clumsy excavator's shovel; still she was thankful that the skull was only in several dozen pieces instead of several hundred.

A soft click echoed in the stillness around her, her curiosity prying her focus from her work to investigate.

"Trying to get a head in life, Bones?" Seeley teased, sauntering across the room with a ridiculous grin plastered on his face.

"Your wit knows no bounds," she intoned drily.

The grin widened but he said nothing, pulling an extra stool up to the table to join her. Amused, she watched him scan the remains in front of them and was more than slightly surprised when he used the end of his pen to join one skull fragment with another.

"It's like a big jigsaw puzzle isn't it?" he asked, looking at her.

She nodded slowly, "In a manner of speaking, yes, though a very complex one at times."

His eyes returned to the fragments and once again he slid two pieces together. They shared a smile as she reached for the glue to begin affixing his finds to the larger skull.

"Parker thinks it's funny you use the same kind of glue he does," Seeley commented, continuing to help with the assembly.

"It's strong enough to hold them together," she explained, "but very easy to dissolve should errors be made."

A lopsided grin appeared on his face, "Can't see you messing up too often."

"With fragments this large, no," she shook her head as they continued working in tandem. "Errors are more common when the extent of damage is greater."

"Like Cleo?" he questioned and she nodded wordlessly. "You pulled an all-nighter with her didn't you?"

"Yes," the corners of her lips curled, remembering the mug of coffee Zack had left for her to awaken to.

Her smile widened as her partner shed his outer jacket, draping it on the back of the stool and rolling his sleeves up as he sat back down. Ignoring the box of gloves she pointed to, he went back to pushing fragments together with his pen.

"So what happened to this guy?" he asked as they worked. "Or girl?"

"Guy," she clarified, then scowled. "If you're referring to the condition of his skull, that occurred post-mortem when the inept recovery team struck it with their shovels."

"I'm sure you gave 'em hell," he winked, bumping his shoulder with hers.

"The government officials involved are well aware of my displeasure on the matter, however since the recovery took place quite some time ago, I doubt it did any good."

"How old is he?"

"The bones date back to 1945 but he was no older than sixteen when he died," she explained, gluing the last of the skull fragments together.

"So young," Seeley murmured. "World War II era?"

"Iwo Jima," she confirmed.

"A boy fighting in a man's war."

"He was already as tall as you, so fabricating his age would not have been difficult," she pointed out, "and in many other cultures he would've already been considered a man."

"Parker will be sixteen in a little over four years," he countered, then shook his head as if to clear it.

Sensing his distress she dismounted her stool and merged their hands, gently leading him over to the boy's lit x-rays.

"This fracture pattern," she gestured with her free hand, "suggests that he used his body as a shield during an explosion."

"Is that how he died?" he wanted to know.

"No," she pointed to another x-ray. "That mark is where a bullet pierced his chest adjacent to his heart. Death would have occurred swiftly."

"Why'd they call you in on it if it's so cut and dried?"

"His dogtags were lost and he was buried with others in a mass grave afterwards," she shrugged. "I have several others to identify that were buried around him."

He nodded his understanding, then asked, "What'll happen to him now?"

"Odontology will study his teeth in order to determine what part of the country he was from and Angela will do a facial reconstruction and attempt to match the data we've collected to soldiers as well as missing persons from that region." She noticed the confused look on his face and continued, "Given his age, his family may not have realized that he joined the military and could have reported him as a runaway."

"Guaranteed they'll be happy to know either way," he squeezed her hand.

"More than likely," she agreed, "though unlike our cases I rarely ever meet these victims' families."

"Speaking of our cases," he draped his arm around her shoulder as they walked back to the table, "what's your security clearance these days?"

"It's analogous to yours," she answered. "Why?"

"Both Mark Weston and Caleb Fuller are CIA," he named the two agents Perotta had been unable to locate. "Weston's pretty high up, though, so we'll both be vetted before our meeting tomorrow."

"Do you think either one of them will be able to shed any light on the case?" she asked as she began returning all of the bones save the reconstructed skull into their plastic bin.

"I hope so," he sighed, tossing his suit jacket over his shoulder. "Cullen's getting pressed from the higher ups to figure out what's going on and if we keep hitting dead ends like we have, he'll eventually pull us off the case altogether."

She frowned at the thought, "You mentioned a meeting with Weston, what about Fuller?"

"He's on assignment right now," a grimace crossed his face. "Couldn't get a straight answer as to when he'd be available, even though I told the paper pusher I talked to that our guy's still out there killing."

"At least you found both of them," she said, packing the skull carefully into a padded box. "I need to deliver this to Angela."

They left the bone storage area, bickering back and forth lightly as to why it was two in the afternoon and she still had not eaten lunch. They also discussed what they were going to do for the rest of the afternoon. Seeley's responsibilities at the Hoover were complete, but she still had work to catch up on that could not be taken home. On returning to her office, she discovered that her once-empty inbox was once again filled to overflowing and there was a large packet of papers from Jaina requiring the author's approval.

"How 'bout this?" Seeley offered, stretching out on the couch lazily. "You eat the salad I stuck in your mini-fridge and we can look through this stack and see if I can help with anything. Then I'll get Sadie and take her to the park or something so that you can get some work done without us underfoot. We'll plan on being back here by seven for dinner."

She agreed, digging through her desk drawer for a clean fork before going for the salad. It was good, and by the time she had finished, they'd managed to work through half of the inbox's contents, lessening her workload considerably.

"Thanks," she smiled as he readied to leave.

"Any time, Bones," he pulled her in for a quick kiss, resting his forehead against hers briefly, "and now you know who to call if you need help putting those Limbo skulls together."

"Your spatial reasoning skills are laudable," she chuckled, fingering the material of his vest. "Perhaps you'll make a good 'squint' after all."


	47. The Meaning in the Date

Chapter 47 The Meaning in the Date:

The feeling of contentment and satisfaction stayed with him long after his smile faded. It had been a great day. With a little bit of elbow grease and a LOT of charm he'd been able to unearth both of Perotta's missing agents and even set up a meeting with one of them right away. When he'd gone to tell Bones he hadn't planned on staying long, but it had been kinda fun helping her piece the skull back together and his fascination and respect for what she did had been renewed.

He smirked, thinking about her squint comment as he waited to pick Sadie up. She'd been proud of herself for coming up with that jab and he'd let her have it; the cute look on her face making it well worth his while.

"Where's Mommy?" Sadie wanted to know as he buckled her in.

"At the lab," he pressed a kiss into her curls when she hugged his neck. "She's got some work to finish up so I was thinking _we_ could head out to Memorial Park while we wait for her."

"May I get ice cream?" her eyes lit up.

"Yeah, but no tell Mom," he winked, closing the door and hopping in the driver's seat. "And I expect you to eat dinner too, Little Miss," he warned, looking in the rear view mirror at her as they headed for the park.

He'd just pulled into the parking lot when his cell rang from the back seat.

"It's Mommy," Sadie informed him.

"Go ahead and answer it," he smiled, knowing she'd get a kick out of doing so.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth's phone, this is Sadie," the little girl spoke, sounding exactly like Bones did when she answered his phone.

He could hear the surprise in Bones' voice from where he sat but she went with it and by the time he'd gotten Sadie out of her seat they were chatting away about their respective days. He was amused at how impressed Sadie was that he'd helped Bones out with the skull and shook his head as the two discussed all of the squinty highlights that had gone on in the lab.

As Sadie skipped down the path ahead of him, he could hear her begging Bones to let her go to one of Max's science classes even though she was well below the target age range. She must have secured something, though, because by the time they reached the merry-go-round Sadie was all smiles and passed the phone off to him while she waited for the ride to stop.

"Miss me already, Bones?" he grinned, plopping down on the bench beside the ride where he could have a clear view of Sadie at all times.

"I forgot to mention something to you while you were here and I wanted to do so before I forgot again," she handily ignored him.

"World-renowned forensic anthropologist and best-selling author Dr. Temperance Brennan forget something?" he feigned horror. "Surely you jest?"

"Surely I do not," she sniffed, "and apparently it is causing my father a good deal of consternation."

"What's up between you and Max?" he kept his tone light, waving at Sadie as her horse rode past him.

"It's not a problem, per se," he heard the frown in her voice, "however, he invited us over for dinner the other day and has been quite persistent about procuring an answer from me, even though I assured him several times that I would consult you as to our schedule availability and get back to him."

Booth winced, really hoping she hadn't used "schedule availability" on Max but having a sinking feeling she probably did; or something equally dismissive. Fortunately the con man never seemed too put out by the way she sometimes treated him and for the most part seemed to appreciate her directness even when it hurt.

A thought occurred to him, "Uh, Bones, he didn't happen to make the invite for this Saturday did he?"

"Yes, actually," her hair brushed the phone as she nodded. "Do we have a prior engagement that day?"

The almost hopeful tone in her voice made him grimace on top of making what he had to remind her about even more painful.

"Saturday's April 9th, Bones," he said quietly, hoping he wouldn't have to say anything else.

"Oh," she deflated, then in a puzzled voice. "Why would my father wish to invite us to dine with him on my mother's birthday? We-he never has before."

"He probably misses her like crazy and wants to share that with you," Booth explained.

"Share in his grief?" she asked.

"In his memories," he answered. "Having you there? That helps him honor the part of your mom that survived in you."

"Why not invite Russ as well?" she asked next. "Technically, he shares the same quantity of DNA that I do."

Booth shrugged, "You didn't see him while you were missing. He put in hours of work helping me comb through files that could help and was right there in the thick of it when Hodgins broke the case wide open. In fact, he was the one who decoded your hidden message."

"He was?" she was clearly surprised. "I simply presumed it was Hodgins."

"Nope," Booth shook his head. "Hodgins was as stumped as the rest of us but as soon as he mentioned what he was seeing, Max pounced on it and decoded it in no time. That why he was with me in the woods that night and trust me, he was just as scared as I was."

There was silence on the other end while she absorbed his words.

"I will accept, then," she said finally.

"Sounds good," he smiled, standing up to go to Sadie. "We'll see you in a little bit, Bones."

"Alright," she responded. "But this time when you feed Sadie ice cream, make sure to clean her off thoroughly."


	48. Agency Politics

Chapter 48: Agency Politics

Mark Weston was not someone Temperance would've automatically associated with the federal government, which she supposed was a good quality for an undercover agent of the CIA to possess.

"Sure, I remember the Hairston case," he nodded. "It was my first time in the field and I- well- let's just say the word 'green' described me in more than one way," he looked at the partners knowingly.

"You won't get any sympathy from her," Seeley tossed his thumb in her direction casually. "She _chose_ to be around that level of decomp for a living."

She shot him an annoyed glare, though it was more part of their subterfuge than anything else.

"_Look," he'd explained on their way over, "these CIA guys are gonna be tough for me to get a read on because they pretty much lie for a living. Also, if you thought the FBI was a boy's club, the CIA's worse. I'm not sure what he'll think of you so just follow my lead and if I start making jabs at you or the squinty side of things just roll with it."_

She hadn't fully understood him at the time, but it certainly made more sense now. It also struck her why Seeley had requested that she remove her wedding rings and replace them with her mother's for the interview. He was judging how well or poorly Weston treated a seemingly unattached woman.

Since she wasn't the one conducting the interview, she studied Weston under the auspices of reading one of the lab reports they'd brought in with them. As far as she could tell he was a man who was confident but not cocky about his abilities and he seemed to her to be telling the truth.

"Thanks for your time," Seeley said when he reached the end of the questions they'd prepared, standing to his feet. "Give a call if you can think of anything else."

"Sorry I didn't have more to offer," Weston shook Seeley's hand as well as Temperance's. "We didn't have much to go on at the time either."

"Do you think he was being honest with us?" she asked one they were back in the privacy of the SUV.

"For now, yeah," he nodded- then was cut off by his phone. "Booth," a pause, "Got it! We're on our way!"

He snapped the phone shut, flipped on the sirens, and made an abrupt U-turn at the next intersection.

"Another body?" she ventured.

"Nope," he shook his head, a triumphant grin on his face, "even better! Fuller resurfaced and my contact set us up for a short meeting over at the Hoover."

"Fuller is still an FBI agent, correct?" she recalled from the file.

"Yep," he nodded, "specializes in undercover ops, though, so he's still not going to be an easy read. Least he's batting for our team."

"I don't know what that means," she informed him, keeping her dislike of sports metaphors to herself for the time being.

"Inter-agency cooperation is a great PR line," he explained, "but the reality is there will always be secrets each agency keeps. Weston started out as FBI, but he's been CIA longer, so it's tough to figure out where his loyalties lie. Fuller's FBI through and through so that's one less thing for me to sort through.

"Because he knows the same secrets you do?"

"Something like that, yeah, and there's no rivalry," he added. "Oh, and you can put your rings back on too, Bones."

"Because he's FBI?" she asked as she did so.

The car doors echoed in unison as they exited.

"Well, that," Seeley said, coming around the SUV to walk beside her through the parking garage. "Plus I'm pretty sure he won one of the big pools back in the day."

He increased his pace while hers slackened as she attempted to decipher his meaning.

"Wait," she bounded after him. "What pool?"


	49. Missing Something

Chapter 49

By the time they reached the second floor Booth was really starting to regret mentioning the pool.

"Are you telling me that not only were you aware of these underground gambling rings, but you actually manipulated Cullen into expediting our marriage license by enabling him to win the ring he was involved in?" She was talking fast and had started at a whisper that only grew louder the longer she talked.

Glancing at his watch he saw he had five minutes to spare so he steered her into his office, shut the door, and pulled the blinds down.

"Look," he took her shoulders in his hands, "betting pools like this happen all the time and are mostly just for fun- nothing underground about them. I bet even the Squint Squad had their own pool on us at the time."

"I doubt that," she frowned haughtily, as if scientists would never stoop so low.

"Your people bet on cockroach races," he pointed out with a smirk. "So yeah," he nodded, "I may've used the pool against Cullen but it got us married before we went undercover like you wanted so it was a decent trade-off don't you think?"

Her face cycled through several emotions, finally landing on resignation. "I suppose; though I still don't appreciate the concept as a whole." Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "_You_ didn't place any bets on our relationship did you?"

"Nope," he shook his head and held up his hand. "Scout's honor. Besides, as far as I'm concerned they can keep their money." He slipped his hands around her waist, "I got the sexy scientist so I'm the real winner."

"That is so cheesy!" she laughed, then smiled. "And by that line of reasoning _I_ got the sexy FBI agent."

"Darn straight," he muttered. "We good?" he hoped that they were since they were running out of time.

In answer she closed the gap between them and briefly kissed his lips, letting her fingers drop down and brush his cocky belt buckle in the process. He had to recite a few saints' names before she backed away but at least she didn't look like she was going to go storming off to Cullen any more.

"Don't forget Saint Peter," she smirked, licking her thumb and using it to wipe her lipstick off the corner of his mouth.

"Thanks, Bones," he smirked back, then moved to the door and opened it for her. "Let's do this."

Fuller was lounging in the conference room when they entered and quickly hopped to his feet to shake hands, first with Bones, then Booth. They made small talk about Bureau politics and how bad the Nats already looked in Spring Training before getting around to the case.

Six years ago Fuller had been assigned to investigate the death of Trish Reynolds, whose bones had been delivered to the Jeffersonian via Benjamin Hairston three years after that. After questioning them as to why the case had been reopened, Fuller walked the partners through the original investigation, concluding that they hadn't been able to determine how she died, much less who had done it.

Booth nodded his head at his wife's sidelong glance, giving her permission to let Fuller in on the murder weapon. He leaned back in his chair as if uninterested in the squinty details, all the while cataloguing Fuller's reaction to the news. He caught the minute flicker of surprise in Fuller's eyes when she described the gun barrel wound, but his face was a mask when she described the other fractures on the girl's skeleton.

"Wow, you squints _are_ good," Fuller said approvingly when she'd finished, his eye flicking to Booth. "They do this all the time?"

Booth nodded proudly, "They're the best."

"Well, Dr. Brennan," Fuller rose to his feet, extending his hand, "I'm sorry I couldn't help you more but it's been a pleasure."

"Thank you for your time," Bones replied, shaking Fuller's hand.

"Booth," the other agent gave him a nod.

"Fuller," Booth responded in kind.

They cleared out of the conference room and the partners headed back to Booth's office.

"So how do we proceed from here?" Bones asked when they'd sat down.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well," her brow furrowed, "it seems as if the last of our leads has dried out so I'm not certain what avenue we should pursue next."

"Dried up," he smiled the correction, "and I wouldn't say we're quite that far gone yet."

"You saw something," it wasn't a question and an eager gleam lit her eyes. "Was it Weston? He seemed very agitated during your interview. Do you think he knows something?"

Booth tried to contain his laugh but failed, "Trying to do my job for me, Bones?"

"Was I correct?" she asked hopefully.

He tried to figure out the best way to let her down easy, but the silence spoke for him.

"I was incorrect," she sounded dejected.

"Weston was fidgeting a lot," he said encouragingly, "but he wasn't nervous in a guilty sort of way; it just wasn't pleasant for him."

"What wasn't?"

"Reliving his first case," Booth blew out a long breath. "Lily made an impression on him as a rookie agent, Bones. She was young and sweet but bloodied and dead too and he never found her killer. That's not something you get over no matter how many years pass."

He watched as she considered his words long and hard, then suddenly her eyes flew up to his, "Weston's agitation, was similar to yours during the Cleo Eller case, rather than an indicator of guilt."

"Yeah," his head bobbed encouragingly, "he probably lived with his case like I did with Cleo's. You get to know the victims and their families pretty well when the investigations stretch out like that. And it's the worst feeling in the world when you can't bring them the closure they need. I'd be willing to bet he's fueled his career with some of that regret."

"He's made a very good career for himself," she said, then met his gaze earnestly. "We can give him that closure."

"Yeah," a proud smile shone for her, "'cause that's what _we've_ built our careers around."

For a long moment, they sat in contented silence and he felt sad for Weston, and Lily, and even for Benjamin Hairston.

"If it wasn't Weston, than what was it?" Bones broke into his thoughts. "Was it Fuller?"

"Sort of," he nodded slowly. "It was something Fuller said- or didn't say. I'm not sure yet, actually."

"But something was wrong?" she raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You ever pick up a bone and know that something was wrong but you couldn't pinpoint exactly what?" he asked.

"I can tell if a bone is imperfect by inspecting it," she shook her head slowly, "but not merely by picking it up; unless of course something has been done to compromise the shape or weight of the bone."

"Of course," he gave her a half smile. "Anyway, like I said, there's some kind of clue that I missed during Fuller's interview so I'll definitely be going over the tape again."

"We were being taped?"

"Not specifically for what I'm gonna use it for, but yeah," he nodded. "Security's got cameras just about everywhere around here."

"Good to know," she replied dryly.

"Yup," he grinned and waggled his eyebrows, "I know where all of the dead spots are though if you ever wanna try them out."

"And on that note I'm going back to the Jeffersonian," she said, rising. "The weather's fine so I'll just walk."

"Working late tonight?" he asked, walking her out to the elevators.

"I shouldn't be," she shrugged. "The lack of progress on this case has allowed me to catch up on satisfactorily on my other obligations."

"Do you want to come with me to pick up Parker and Sadie later or should we pick you up last?"

"I'll go with you," she said as the elevator opened for her. "Just call me before you leave."

"Will do," he smiled. "Call me when you get to your office- and don't roll your eyes, Bones, I don't need to be worrying that some psycho nut hasn't picked you up after I just got you back."

She rolled her eyes, but nodded as the doors swallowed her up. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, fingering his poker chip as he turned and headed for Security to take a look at the tape. And if he happened to be able to watch her walk as far as the cameras would let him; well, that would just be a bonus.


	50. Relativity

**Happy New Year, all! After a mini-hiatus and some well-needed time with my family I'm back. **

**This chapter wouldn't have been possible w/o the collaborative efforts of brainysmrf and some helpful editing by doctorsuez.**

**And now for something that I've been working up to for 50 chapters; and one of the main reasons I HAD to come back to these characters for this journey.**

**GUM :)**

* * *

Chapter 50: Relativity

The concept of Saturday being a day of leisure in which one sleeps in and then watches copious amounts of animated television was not one that she readily subscribed to. In the years before she was married, Saturdays had been the ideal time to work in the lab as it was nearly always quiet. Even when she had been out on a date Friday night, she had invariably found herself leaving wherever she'd happened to wake up and escaping to the solitude of the lab.

Marriage might not have had that large of an impact on her weekend habits as Seeley seemed to understand and accept them, however, bringing a young child into the equation had. True, her new husband had been more than willing to stay with little Sadie when Temperance had to be at the Jeffersonian, but she knew he preferred her at home with them when she was able, and truth be told as time progressed she found she felt the same.

It was no secret that their jobs were demanding during the workweek and often she would find that her time with Sadie was severely limited. Saturdays in the Booth household, therefore, evolved into family time- no matter how many children were present. The wee hours of the morning still belonged to her to do as she pleased until the first person roused. Breakfast was a production that involved everyone- it was Sadie's job to crack the eggs- and was enjoyed around a noisy table. Afterwards, a select number of cartoons were viewed, during which- according to the terms she'd negotiated- Temperance was allowed access to her forensic journals and physical correspondence, but not her laptop. Following a light lunch, they either stayed in and played various and sundry family-oriented games or else participated in a preplanned family outing that could take place anywhere _but_ a museum-like environment.

Spending that time at her father's townhouse on the anniversary of her long-dead mother's birth was not her ideal.

"Stop," Seeley took her hand and pulled her aside as Parker and Sadie ran to greet Max.

She shook him off and arched an eyebrow, "Stop what?"

"Thinking," his lips quirked. "You're giving me a headache."

"Not funny."

"Temperance," his tone arrested her attention. "Max is not the Grim Reaper- you don't have to be so afraid of him."

He started humming a tune she didn't recognize.

"What's that?" she deflected, rather than face his words.

"It's _Don't Fear the Reaper_. By Blue Oyster Cult," he allowed her the deflection.

"I don't know what that means."

"Don't worry; I've got 'em on vinyl, Mama," he slung an arm around her and proceeded to steer her toward the house.

"You frighten me sometimes," she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

As it turned out, he was not wholly incorrect. The afternoon passed in relative peace, with her father relating some humorous anecdotes from Temperance's childhood to Sadie and Parker; eliciting giggles from them both. She downplayed the events as much as possible, though in the end her efforts were in vain.

Dinner itself was a simple affair- hamburgers cooked on his newly acquired grill- and she watched with just the slightest tinge of jealousy as the two men in her life laughed side-by-side as they flipped burgers and downed their beers. Seeley had always been far more at ease with her father than she was and while a part of her wished to share in that, another part was still fearful to take any risk where Max Keenan was concerned.

When they had finished eating, Max revealed that he had purchased equipment for a game called "laser tag" and released the children to the back yard to play while the adults settled into the patio furniture with a bottle of red wine. Conversation inevitably turned to her mother.

"You remind me so much of your mother, it breaks my heart."

"Because you miss her," Brennan stated without the faintest touch of emotion. She accepted her father's grief as sincere even if she still couldn't offer the man as a whole the same courtesy.

"Yeah...Actually no, the fact that you remind me of her and the fact that she's no longer with us complement each other. I see her whenever I see you and in a way it's a balm that soothes my ache."

"Then what about it 'breaks your heart'?"

He sighed a long hesitant sigh, "Because I watched your mother, my wife, let her view of the world and how she thought it should be get in the way of so much of her joy." Max chose his words carefully - he meant every one, especially the last.

Brennan stiffened at the sound of her father using the name he had originally chosen for her. "Can you provide me with an example of that?"

Max looked at Booth, "The woman needs evidence, I get that."

Booth raised his hands, "Hey, you don't have to tell me."

"Your mother knew that the world was cruel and mean and-"

Brennan interrupted him, "The _world_ the two of you chose to be a part of was cruel and mean because it was the criminal world."

"Bones, he knows that and I know that - just listen to him."

She clenched her jaw and then released it, "Continue."

"As I was saying, your mother knew that the world would at some point hurt you or betray you and she was torn over how to handle it. On one hand, she was a loving, doting mother who felt compelled to swaddle you in only good and positive things. She so wanted to protect you from any kind of pain or even the slightest discomfort." Max paused, lost in the memories of what was indeed a lifetime ago.

"You said she was torn. What split her focus?"

"Her other hand, the one that was honest and deliberate, knew that hiding the truth of the real world from you would be a hindrance to you. There was this part of her that believed she would actually be harming you more than helping you by sugar-coating the ugliness of the world."

Brennan nodded, "And she was correct."

"In a way, maybe she was but she never found a balance between her own two hands."

She placed her wine glass on the table beside them and righted her back, "W-why are you telling me this now? I thought you wanted this dinner to in some way memorialize my mother?"

"I did. I want you to know how much you are like her because I feel it's important to you as a woman who really never knew her mother and I suspect that has hurt you. _And _I can see no better way to remember her and honor her then by learning from her mistakes and trying to find a way for your own two hands to work together."

"And where were you when she was struggling with her 'two hands'? Casing a bank or teaching a science class?"

She knew it was a petulant question but at the moment she didn't particularly care.

"You owe your mother for the life you live, you know," Max deflected easily, as if he had anticipated her reaction.

"She gave birth to me. So, yes, I'm aware of that," Temperance nodded.

"That's not what I meant," his tone sobered as he turned to regard her more closely.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but the life you live and love is defined by science, logic, and reason, is it not?" she indicated that it was and he continued. "What is the glue that holds those three things together?"

"I cannot even begin to fathom the answer to your question," she shook her head.

"It's math, Tempe," he smiled.

She frowned. "I accept that mathematics is the binding factor but fail to see how that can be attributed to my mother's influence."

"You owe your ability to comprehend math to her," he said gently.

Beside her, she felt Seeley tensing ever so slightly; ready to come to her defense should the need arise as she answered stiffly, "I'm able to comprehend those things because I'm naturally highly intelligent and my environment and life situations have allowed me to achieve the highest possible level of achievement."

"I hate to break it to you," her father chuckled, "but when you were about five or six you struggled with all aspects of the subject." His eyes softened as he recalled, "Your mother was many things and one of them was tenacious- like you- and she refused to let you not understand a subject that she loved and that she knew would serve you well in life.

"For most of your elementary years, you spent hours upon hours in the kitchen with her. She drilled you daily no matter how much you complained or railed that you couldn't do it."

"I-I don't…" she was taken aback. "I've _always_ understood basic math. I had to."

"Why?" the question was so quietly injected she barely caught it, but it pierced her to the quick.

Vainly, she sifted through years of memories- memories she had so tightly shut up when she had realized that her parents were not coming back and that Russ had abandoned her as well. The idea that she could have forgotten something so fundamental unnerved her. She looked first to her father, then Seeley, then back to Max.

"You promised me five dollars if I could memorize my times tables over the summer when I was nine," she finally recalled.

"I knew you couldn't back down from a challenge," he nodded. "But Ruth was the one who put them on flash cards and took you to her office with her so that you could study."

"The colors were garish," she clung to the memory fragment his comment sparked.

"Yeah," he nodded, "they were. You thought so even back then."

Before anything more could be spoken between them, Sadie and Parker finished their game and joined them, forcing the conversation to lighter topics. When the little girl fell asleep in her arms several minutes later, it gave her the polite excuse she was looking for to escape. The weight of her father's words felt like a millstone around her neck and she needed to be free of his presence in order to properly process them.

"You holding up okay?" Seeley asked as they lay in bed later that night.

She nodded mutely, avoiding his eyes, knowing that the soft bedside light would betray her.

"Why do you like my father?" she asked suddenly, needing to know.

The look she received in return was blank.

"He's a liar, a thief, and a murderer," she pressed, "and yet you've managed to forge a friendship with him. You respect him, even."

"Max is-" he shook his head and met her gaze. "Everyone has a past, Bones, and none of us has a perfect one. Max regrets what he's done- where he's messed up over the years, especially with you- and he's doing his best to make amends."

"Like your cosmic balance sheet?"

"Similar, yeah," he smiled encouragingly.

Silence enveloped them.

"You know, Bones, Max might have the advantage of knowing you when you were a kid but there's something you're forgetting."

She settled down into his arms, waiting for him to continue.

"He doesn't know the adult you- not the way that I do," he kissed her hair softly. "Maybe once upon a time you would've struggled with the same balance your mom did but you've come a long way in the past three years. Sadie couldn't ask for a better mom."

He was correct, she recognized right away, but even as he spoke she knew that her father had been correct as well and the crux of her dilemma struck her.

"Sadie was easy," she spoke her thoughts out loud as they came. "Her needs were obvious and required immediate attention when we chose to bring her into our lives. She was easy to love because she loved so freely in return. Parker was your son and though it was a struggle at first to define our relationship, he's a very amiable boy and we've developed a respect and love for one another."

At that she paused, unsure she wished to voice the rest of her thoughts, then decided that nothing could be gained by keeping them to herself.

"Maddie and Joey have been more difficult. From the beginning I felt a connection to them, but so much change was required on my part to meet their needs fully that I faltered, and in the end abdicated their care to others whom I felt could do a better job." She blew a long breath out of pursed lips, "I don't want their lives to suffer because I was afraid. I want to bring them home."

"Okay," he nodded in understanding. "When do you want to head up there?"

She disentangled herself from him and moved to stand up.

"Tonight."

* * *

**Thoughts and feedback are always welcome and you're not even all that far from the review button! ;)**


	51. Full Steam Ahead

Chapter 51: Full Steam Ahead

A lifetime ago, Daniel Goodman had pulled Booth aside and casually lectured him on the proper care and feeding of squints. Amidst a bunch of scientific mumbo-jumbo, he managed to understand they took a hyper-rational approach to things and then he was given a short overview of Dr. Brennan's "disturbingly steep" learning curve. At the time he wasn't concerned about it because he considered himself to be a fair and friendly kinda guy and as for Dr. Brennan, he hadn't met a woman yet who was immune to his charm smile so he was confident that it would carry him a long way.

What Goodman hadn't mentioned was that that "steep curve" meant that she went from 0 to 60 in no time flat in her decision making process; including the life-changing ones.

"Whoa there, Bones," he said, reaching out to tug her back onto the bed. "We can't just pick up and go tonight."

"Why not?" the determined look on her face was cute, but she was utterly serious.

"Number one," he ticked off the points with a small kiss each time, "Parker and Sadie are in bed, number two, Maddie and Joey are in bed, and number three, unless you're ready to join the Brennan family criminal element there are some legal hoops we'll need to jump through."

He got an elbow in the ribs and a glare that could melt steel for his trouble but at least she settled back under the covers.

"Okay, you're going to hate me for this but I have some questions," he waited until she'd relaxed up against him before broaching the topic again.

"I sincerely doubt that I would hate you," she frowned up at him, "though that has no bearing on whether or not I will appreciate your questions."

"Touché," he smiled back. "Now, first question: are you sure- positively sure- that this is what you want?"

"Why would I not be?" her eyes were wide with innocence.

"Because, Bones, we've been circling this issue for three years and now all of a sudden you're gung ho for it instead of taking the conservative view," his voice was gentle, not wanting to upset her but wanting to be honest too.

"What are your other questions?" she countered.

He lifted an eyebrow, "You're not going to answer the first one and you want more?"

"No," she shook her head. "I want all of the questions so that I can better construct my answers and avoid redundancy within them."

"Of course," he muttered, shaking his head. "Okay, here goes. Second question is have you thought about this from the kids' point of view? Yeah, we know Maddie's going through a rough patch but that doesn't mean she'll want to leave before the year's up and we have no clue how Joey would feel. We _need_ to know these things, Bones, before we go diving into this because we can't give them back once we take them in." He stroked her cheek as she absorbed his words, "I don't need to tell _you_ what all that back and forth stuff does to a kid; and these two have been through enough. And don't forget that while Sadie will be over the moon with this idea, when the rubber meets the road she'll figure out that she's been the center of our world for the past three and a half years and she might not like sharing you."

"Is that all?" she asked, unassumingly.

"Almost," he smiled. "My third and final question is based on the fact that I know you and I know how you and change get along, so I just want to know that you and I are going to be able to work through all of the changes _together_ to make this transition go as smoothly as possible."

It shouldn't have surprised him that she was ready with her first answer as soon as he stopped talking, but he was.

"Your first and third questions are related so I will answer them as one," she started off. "Yes. I am very certain after tonight's events that this is the proper course of action. Change is an inevitable factor in life and while this is, admittedly, a significant one, I believe I will be able to make the transition quite smoothly. Financially, we are more than stable enough to support them, emotionally, we have much to invest in their lives, and more practically, we have spent the last three summers perfecting a routine that works for all parties involved.

"As for their feelings in the matter, while I of course cannot know what they are in terms of whether or not they wish to finish the school term there, I do know that both expressed a desire over Easter break to remain here on a permanent basis."

She paused, and pulled back far enough to stare him down like he was her grad student, "I also know that they are_ children_, Booth, and their wants may not always be what's right. _This_ should be their home and _we_ should be their parents. That's the only thing that matters."

She returned to his arms and he lay there stunned. He couldn't argue with her. All of the details truly didn't matter when you looked at it her way. His wife was right -again. The next thing he knew she'd snapped the bedroom light off, enveloping them in darkness and was telling him goodnight.

Sleep came fairly easy and all too soon the alarm was blaring, intruding on his rest. The cold sheets beside him and the humid air coming out of the bathroom told him she was already up and had showered and was most likely down getting breakfast together. Rubbing the cobwebs from his eyes he yawned, threw on a pair of sweats, and ventured out.

The kids' rooms were empty as he passed them and he could hear the sound of Sadie's giggle filter up the stairs.

"Ah, there you are," Bones said as if he'd been sleeping in instead of getting up with the alarm. "Sadie, Parker, we have an announcement to make. After Mass we are going to pick-"

"Up some Thai food," he cut her off, shooting her a look and shaking his head before grinning back at the kids. "Uh, Bones," he hissed, "a moment," he jerked his thumb toward the kitchen.

"Mommy's in trouble," Sadie clucked from her seat.

Bones' face was stuck somewhere between confusion and frustration, but at least she seemed to trust him enough to keep quiet until they were out of earshot.

"I thought we discussed this last night?" he tried very hard to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

"We did," she nodded. "Now Sadie and Parker are awake, and Maddie and Joey as well."

"Legal hoops, Bones," he kept his voice low, but earnest, "not to mention the fact that we'll need to get Parker back to Rebecca sometime today, _and_ this is not exactly the best way to go about telling them."

"What would you suggest then?" her arms crossed over her chest.

"Ease into it," he cautioned. "This is going to be a huge shift in how things operate around here."

"They will adapt just fine and there's no reason to 'ease' into anything," she shook her head. "Sadie and Parker are not imbeciles and therefore can easily adapt to the truth, plus I suspect this will be welcome news to them. As for the legal 'hoops' as you call them," she shrugged. "They've been dealt with."

"'Dealt with?'" he didn't like the sound of that coming so confidently from her. "Why does that sound like you made a mafia hit or something?"

"Don't be so melodramatic, Seeley," she rolled her eyes. "I placed several calls this morning, both to the case worker assigned to Maddie and Joey, as well as the school. Our guardianship papers are in good order and the school has no rules concerning when their students can or cannot be withdrawn. I also requisitioned the adoption paperwork and notified the lawyer via e-mail that his services will be needed soon."

"So this is really happening?" he reached out to touch her shoulders.

"We leave this afternoon after Mass if that is agreeable to you," she nodded. "Oh, and I've explained the situation to Rebecca and she's agreed to let Parker stay another night."

"Have I told you how much I love you?" he rested his forehead against hers with a sigh. "Even though you're responsible for a fair number of my grey hairs?"

"Not today," she smirked. "And you are far too vain when it comes to your hair. There's barely any grey at all."

"I love you," he said, kissing her soundly. "But we're not telling Sadie and Parker until _after_ Mass or else we'll never hear the end of it."

"That's logical."

He was just leaning down to kiss her again when Sadie and Parker came through the kitchen with their empty cereal bowls. Squeezing in a quick peck to the dual groans of the kids, he headed upstairs to get ready to leave. As it turned out it was good that they didn't reveal where they were really going after church because Sadie had enough trouble sitting still through the service that morning.

"Time for Thai!" the little girl exclaimed as soon as they were in the parking lot.

"Yup," Booth nodded, "plus we're taking a side trip to Pennsylvania if you two are up for it."

"Do they have Thai food there?" Sadie asked.

"What's going on?" Parker looked curious.

Yeah, Booth decided as Bones explained what was happening and squeals and cheers reverberated around the SUV, definitely good that they'd waited.


	52. Homecoming

Chapter 52: Homecoming

**7am, Sunday: Washington, D.C.**

"Yes," she spoke as patiently as she could manage, "I realize that you technically do not hold office hours on Sundays; however, I cannot be culpable for your decision to answer your phone, either, as I would've been forced to leave a voicemail message otherwise."

The woman on the other end muttered words that Temperance was fairly certain were hypocritical for someone claiming to be readying for church, but said nothing. Grudgingly, the woman retrieved the data Temperance sought and hung up. Pleased, she then began composing an email even as she dialed the next phone number on her agenda.

**7am, Sunday: Hershey, PA**

A soft alarm beeped, rousing the room's young occupants. Sunday morning chapel was a compulsory event and demerits could be earned if one was either late or absent. Maddie waited until her roommate had left for the shower to stretch and crawl out of bed. The two girls got along for the most part, but today Maddie didn't feel like talking right away.

Mechanically, she began her morning routine and was soon dressed and ready to leave. She could hear the chaos from the dining room and kitchen beneath her and decided that wasn't something she wanted to face quite yet either. Curling up with a worn book, she read for a bit, then headed down to grab a quick breakfast.

That accomplished, she joined the group of girls as they moved to leave. The phone rang and her already-harried house mother answered it sharply and after a rushed exchange, hung up.

"Maddie," she said quickly, "you don't have to come. Stay here and pack up your things and someone will be here to pick you up later this afternoon."

Maddie opened her mouth to ask who was picking her up and why, but closed it as the woman had already turned and was herding the group quickly outside. The front door slammed behind them, leaving Maddie alone and confused.

Her thoughts went to the incident that she had been forced to report after _the_ Dr. Temperance Brennan had called the school, concerned about Maddie's cryptic video call. At the time, it seemed like everyone had believed her when she relayed how she had been cornered in the library and forced to watch helplessly as some of her male classmates took the homework she'd spent the last hour working on and photocopied it. A review board had been called as the school's cheating policy was a zero-tolerance one, and Maddie had been grilled almost as closely as her tormentors.

The ruling was set to come back this week, so perhaps, she thought, this was it and she had been expelled. A part of her was relieved to be getting away from all of the stares- not to mention the teasing she'd been at the receiving end of; but the other part was nervous. "Someone" picking her up didn't sound like it was the Booths, whom her house parents had met several times. Shoving her thoughts as to where else she might be sent aside, she went back to her room and began packing.

**7am, Sunday: Hershey, PA**

Russ and Jen Porter had been house parents at the Milton S. Hershey School for ten years and had seen just about everything imaginable happen with their students in that time. So when the call came through that Joey Lane was being withdrawn from the school by his legal guardians because they wished to begin the adoption process, the Porters immediately changed their morning plans. Jen would inform Joey about what was going on and then stay home from chapel with him to help him pack.

As she entered his room, she smiled at the tow-headed boy sleeping peacefully, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. For as much as she would miss him, she was happy for him too. The Booths were the very best sort of people and Joey, unlike most of the boys who passed through her doors, would finally have parents and a stable home to call his own.

A truck rumbled by outside of the window and his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey, Ms. Jen," he yawned. "Am I late for chapel?"

"You and I aren't going today," she grinned so that he wouldn't think he was in trouble.

"We're not?" he sat up, eyes widening. "Where are we going?"

She shook her head, still smiling, "It's you who's going somewhere- you and Maddie."

"To DC?" he asked eagerly, bouncing where he sat.

"Remember what you've been praying for the last few months?" she asked.

"That I could be a real Booth," he spoke quickly and with growing excitement, "and live with my sisters and Mommy and Daddy and Parker forever!"

She nodded, "God didn't forget you, Joey. The Booths are going to start the adoption process and will be coming to pick you and Maddie up later this afternoon."

"Yippie!" he yelled, flinging himself into her waiting arms and hugging her tightly.

"So," she continued, "let's go get you some breakfast and then we can start getting all of your things together."

He pulled back and frowned, looking around the room, "I don't think my suitcase is gonna be big enough for everything."

"Well," Jen said brightly, "I'm sure we've got some empty boxes around here somewhere for you to use."

**12pm, Sunday: Washington, D.C.**

Temperance smiled at the keen anticipation being exhibited by Parker and Sadie as they entered Wong Fu's before beginning their journey. To his credit, Sid listened patiently as the children spoke- sometimes simultaneously- about the events that were unfolding. When they'd finished, he excused himself to the kitchen, returning only a few minutes later with personal-sized containers for each of them, and a larger box containing a chocolate cake for them all to celebrate once they were with Maddie and Joey.

"Just keep that away from Sadie in the car," Seeley nudged the little girl as they walked out with the food. "She might cover herself in it!"

"Daddy," she rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, "That was when I was almost two. I'm _way_ older than that now."

The adults shared an amused look as they all piled back in the SUV.

"Everybody ready?" Seeley asked. "No one needs a quick potty break?"

"Let's go, Dad!" Parker urged impatiently.

Seeley obliged and pulled out to a round of cheers from the backseat. For her part, Temperance was just pleased to find that Sid had provided them with food that would not make a mess in the car.

**12pm, Sunday: Hershey, PA**

It was noon and Maddie was still alone in the house. The house mother from next door had stopped by a half an hour earlier to inform her that several of Maddie's dorm-mates had been caught smoking outside of the chapel building following the service. Mrs. Lake wasn't sure how long they would be gone, and had invited Maddie to come over when she was done packing. The prospect of spending any large amount of time with a house full of preschoolers was not appealing so she politely declined.

She made herself a ham sandwich in the kitchen and moved to join her belongings in the living room. It wasn't a huge amount of things since most of her clothes were school uniforms, but she _had_ run out of room in her suitcases and been forced to find other storage containers.

**12pm, Sunday: Hershey, PA**

Once everyone was back from chapel and had changed, the Porters sat the boys down and explained why Joey was leaving. For the most part, they were sad to see him go, though a few looked outwardly jealous. By lunchtime, the house was abuzz with energy as the boys played with the toys Joey had sitting out, ready to leave.

When they gathered around the table they all quizzed him about the new home he was going to. Joey nearly burst with pride answering them all; especially when he told them that his new dad was an FBI agent. He also gave them a fairly accurate retelling of how the Booths had become his foster parents in the first place.

When lunch was over, they started back toward the toys that Jen had since re-packed and were quickly intercepted and sent outside to play while Joey waited for the Booths. The weather had finally started to warm up and the boys spilled out of the house, eagerly soaking up the bright sunshine as they began running around.

**2pm, Interstate 83N en route to Hershey, PA**

As the trip wore on, Parker and Sadie grew more and more restless. Temperance tried to occupy them with a myriad of games that she remembered from her childhood, though nothing kept their attention for very long.

Just after they crossed the Pennsylvania border, Seeley pulled into a state-run rest area. There was a fair-sized grassy patch sprinkled with shade trees and picnic tables. The SUV had barely stopped when Parker and Sadie dashed out of the car and began running around the grounds.

"This will delay our arrival time," she commented as they walked along the small footpath.

"Yeah, but they need it," he thrust his chin in the children's direction and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I needed it too."

"I'll drive the rest of the way if you are feeling fatigued," she offered casually.

"Nice try," he winked and squeezed her hand.

She shrugged, then grew concerned, "Though if you really are feeling fatigued, you shouldn't drive. Studies show-"

He cut her off with a quick kiss before continuing their walk.

"If you don't give me any squinty stats about driving tired I'll promise to let you drive on the ride home."

"For the entire journey?" she asked, surprised and looking for evidence of a caveat.

"Every second," he agreed.

She smiled, warmed by the gesture as she knew how much he truly loathed being a passenger in his own vehicle- or any vehicle for that matter. For several minutes they kept walking, never letting the children out of their line of vision.

"It'll be good," she barely heard his soft words.

"What?" she probed when he didn't explicate right away.

"The four of them together," he was speaking to her but looking at Parker and Sadie. "It'll be good for all of them."

A number of practical responses sprung to her lips but the only word that slipped out was, "Yes."

* * *

**To Be Continued.... (hint-reviews spur the muse)**


	53. Homecoming Part 2

Chapter 53: Homecoming Part Two

**3:30pm, Sunday: Washington, D.C.**

The half hour break had done just what Booth had hoped. It had given the kids a chance to run off their excess energy and him a chance to stretch his aching legs. The SUV was nicer on him than Bones' sports car, but still no picnic on long trips.

By half past three they were close enough to the school for the kids to start recognizing landmarks. Sadie squealed with delight as they passed a billboard with a cartoon Hershey's Kiss welcoming them to the "Sweetest Place on Earth."

"Joey!" the squeal was even louder this time as Sadie spotted her brother playing on the swing set outside of his student home.

Booth pulled off of the main road, entering the maze of private roads that connected the students' houses. Being careful not to hit any kids in the process, he eased down the driveway toward Joey. He'd barely stopped the car when Parker and Sadie burst out of the back as Joey ran to meet them.

"Guess what, Sadie?" Joey grinned at his little sister. "Ms. Jen said that me 'n' Maddie get to be real Booths now! Just like you and Parker!"

"Aw," Parker clapped his hand on the younger boy's shoulder, "you've been a real Booth for three years. The grownups are just playing catch up."

"Can I go to school with _you_ now Parker?" Joey asked.

"I dunno," Parker looked over at his dad for help. "Don't you want to go with Sadie?"

Joey shook his head fiercely, "They gotta dress up there like here. I wanna wear my blue jeans just like you get to."

"But who's gonna go with me?" Sadie pouted. "Daddy," she pulled Booth over into the conversation, "if Parker and Joey get to go to school together can me and Maddie?"

"I don't know, kiddo," he ruffled her curls, "we'll talk to your mom about it later, okay?"

Sadie nodded, temporarily mollified, and released him. The Porters were talking with Bones by the house and he walked over to the small group.

"Hey, Bones, I'm going to go grab Maddie and then we'll come back for Joey's stuff."

"Take my van, Agent Booth," Russ Porter offered. "That way we can load Joey's things in your SUV and drive over to Maddie's house when we're done. It'll save you a trip."

Booth nodded his thanks, showing Russ the key to the large car-top carrier on the SU's roof before exchanging it for Russ' van key.

"See you in a few," he tossed a wave over his shoulder and jogged off.

**2pm, Sunday: Hershey, PA**

It was just before one when the other girls returned and ate their own lunch. The chief offenders were then summarily dismissed to their rooms and the rest ordered to do homework. Maddie, for her part, was glad that she could fade into the background easily.

Without attracting attention, she quietly gathered her belongings out on the front porch and sat down on the wide porch swing's bench when she'd finished. As she swung slowly back and forth she considered asking Mr. or Mrs. Holstein about why she was being sent away now that they were back, then almost as quickly decided not to. They already had enough going on without her nosy questions.

A rueful grin played at her mouth as another loud disagreement sounded from inside and she wondered if the couple would be back after this school year. It was no secret on campus that the middle-school aged girls had the highest turnover rate among the house parents. The Holsteins really weren't bad people. They cared very much about each girl in their charge and did their best to provide them with a structured, loving environment. Structure, though, did not come easy in a house full of a dozen eleven and twelve year old girls; some of whom went home every summer to places where they could do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted.

Try as she might, Mrs. Holstein could never quite gain her charges' respect, nor did she cope well when the girls' behavior fell short of her high ideals. Mr. Holstein, meanwhile, rarely lost his temper- but he was not an assertive type of man and some of the more strong-willed among the girls had picked up on and exploited that fact when it suited their purposes. Maddie actually liked the couple very much as they had encouraged her in her schoolwork and bought her really neat science books when they discovered where her interests lay.

Growing bored of her thoughts she once again picked up her book, hoping that wherever she ended up next it was quieter.

***

Booth navigated the clumsy 12-passenger van through the campus' narrow streets. He spotted Maddie swinging idly on the porch swing by her things. She briefly looked up as he pulled into the driveway, but was buried in her book again by the time he came to a stop and got out.

"Must be some book," he commented loudly enough for her hear as he walked toward her.

At the sound of his voice Maddie's head shot up, eyes looking intensely at him. For a long moment neither of them did anything.

"Daddy!" the spell was broken as she bolted from the swing and buried herself in his arms, trying her best not to cry.

He caught her, holding her fast as she clung to him.

"Shh," he soothed as her shoulders trembled with emotion. "Hey. It's okay. Shh. What's wrong, Maddie?"

She pulled back and their eyes met, hers watery and his steady as a rock.

"I-I'm not in trouble?" she found the courage to ask.

"Trouble?" his eyes darkened. "Who told you you were in trouble?"

"No one," she admitted, sniffling and feeling foolish. "They just did tell me who was picking me up and why and after the hearing-"

"What hearing?" he cut in, careful to keep the rising anger out of his voice so that he wouldn't spook her. "What's going on?"

He managed to remain calm and quiet as she explained what the other kids had done and the review process that had taken place.

"Mrs. Holstein got a call as we were leaving for chapel this morning," she told him. "She said that I had to stay behind and pack up my stuff and someone would be picking me up later this afternoon so I thought…" she shrugged her shoulders, not meeting his eyes.

"Hey," he pulled her close again and when she didn't respond he picked her up and held her in his arms as if she weighed no more than Sadie, "we're not here to punish you, Maddie. We're here to take you home."

"Home?" her voice was small.

"To D.C.- for good."

"Really?" her eyes widened.

"Yep, and I have a question for you," he smiled, setting her down.

She watched, mesmerized as he dropped to one knee and looked up at her.

"Will you, Maddie Lane, come home to D.C. and let me adopt you as my daughter- let me give you my name?"

Memories flooded her, going all the way back to when he'd rescued her from her grandparents' abusive care and again when he'd come for her as soon as she'd called. He'd kept them all safe while they were undercover too; taking down the man who'd been hunting her and being hurt in the process. And then the Booths had become their legal guardians, setting them up at a good school, and promising them a home to come back to during the summer break. Seeley Booth was the only man whom she felt utterly safe with and the closest to a true father she'd ever known.

Her head was bobbing up and down without her ever realizing it and seconds later she was in his arms again and being twirled around while he whooped loudly.

"Seeley Joseph Booth, what on earth are you doing?" an all-too familiar voice came from behind them.

"Mama!" Maddie wiggled out and ran to the scientist, hugging her tightly.

Almost immediately, Sadie had attached herself to Maddie's legs, refusing to let go until she got a hug of her own.

"Maddie, Maddie, we're all gonna be Booths now and lie together for ever and ever," her little sister said breathlessly, "and you can go to _my_ school 'cause Joey's going to Parker's. It's lots of fun even if you have to dress up, and all of the big kid grades are there too so we can always be together even though you're older than me."

Joy and Parker came over and joined them as their mother and father went to talk with the Holsteins, who had been drawn outside by the commotion.

The adults' discussion was low, but brief. Booth voiced his displeasure at the lack of communication between the Holsteins and Maddie, but dropped it when he realized what a stressful day the couple had been through.

"Something wrong, Bones?" he asked as she stood looking at the pile of Maddie's things.

She didn't answer, but turned and walked purposefully back to the SUV. A few minutes later she was back with their two big, empty suitcases in tow. It wasn't until she mounted the porch that he realized what had upset her: Maddie had stowed everything that wouldn't fit in her suitcase into garbage bags.

"Lotta heart, there, Bones," he murmured low enough for only her to hear as she carefully transferred things from the bags to the suitcases.

"Maddie is not garbage," she replied in a tightly controlled voice.

"I know," he assured her, "and she knows too."

He knelt down beside her, kissing the top of her head before joining her in the effort. Before long they had finished repacking and then loaded everything into the SUV.

"Can we have cake now?" Sadie wanted to know, tugging on Booth's leather jacket.

"_May_ we have cake, not can," Bones corrected.

"_May_ we?" Sadie grinned brightly.

"After dinner," Booth promised, swinging her up into his arms.

"Okay. Where's Maddie?" the little girl asked from her perch, scanning the yard.

"She went inside to tell her friends goodbye," Parker explained, smiling up at her.

When Maddie appeared, the six of them piled into the SUV, and grew quiet as they pulled away from the house. As soon as they pulled out onto the main road, Sadie brought up dinner again, sparking a heated debate over where to go. Maddie and Sadie wanted hamburgers, while the boys begged for pizza. Booth moderated from his place in the passenger's seat, but in the end it was Bones who pulled into a chain restaurant that served both pizza and hamburgers on their kid's menu, as well as a few vegetarian selections for herself.

They had to wait several minutes to be seated, and even longer before their food arrived, but at last it came and conversation dropped to almost nothing.

"Daddy," Sadie asked as she finished, "will you still love us when you're really, really old?"

"I don't know," he teased. "How old are we talking?"

"_Really_ old," she insisted earnestly, "like fifty-three!"

Drinks splurted and laughter was stifled as the rest of the table tried hard not to laugh at her.

"Yeah, baby girl," he chuckled, giving her a short hug, "I'll still love you when I'm fifty-three."

"And Maddie and Joey and Parker too?"

"All of you," he promised, then grinned across the table at Bones, "even Mommy."

Sadie opened her mouth to ask another question when the waiter stopped at their table and offered them dessert. The kid seemed upset when they showed him they'd brought their own, but Booth slipped him a big tip and he returned with a smile and enough clean forks and dessert plates for all of them. The adults then ordered coffee for themselves and a fresh round of milk for the kids.

Inside of the box Sid had given them a round, double-layered chocolate cake with chocolate icing that filled the air with a sweet smell as soon as the lid came off. Across the top the name "Booth" was spelled out in red letters. A small FBI badge had been drawn on one side and a miniature lab-coat was on the other, with the letters "P, M, J, S" written in-between.

Booth's mouth watered at the sight of it as Bones placed a fluffy piece with the FBI badge on it in front of him. He almost could taste the gooey chocolate icing on his lips when his phone sounded from his hip.

"Uh oh," Joey frowned, "Darth Vader's calling."

"Gotta take this," Booth said hurriedly to Bones, standing up and weaving in and out of the tables as fast as he could, thankful that they hadn't been seated too far from the door.

"Booth," he answered crisply once he was alone outside. "Yes, Sir," the knot in his stomach that had started when the phone rang tightened and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the call went on. "I understand, Sir." He did some quick figuring in his head, knowing the next question that was coming. "Our ETA's three hours if we push it."

"Push it." The order left no room for debate and the line went dead.


	54. The Homefront

**This past week was spent alternately pounding my head against my keyboard in frustration and out playing with my kids- finally got above freezing for the first time this winter! So without further delay...**

Chapter 54: The Homefront

She recognized the ringtone right away and was unsurprised when he abruptly excused himself from the table.

"Where's Daddy going? Sadie asked around a mouthful of cake.

"One of his superiors is calling and he doesn't wish to be interrupted," Temperance explained, "and please wait until you've both chewed and swallowed your food before speaking again."

Sadie nodded. Forks clacked against plates as the cake was consumed while they waited for Seeley to return. When he finally did she could tell from his body language that something was amiss; though he attempted to hide it from the children, grinning widely at them as he began consuming his cake. He finished in a matter of minutes.

"Time to get going," he announced, snatching the keys from where they lay on the table in front of her.

"Hey!" she was on her feet, reaching in vain for her keys. He gave her a look that clearly said to drop the matter, but she ignored him, "What happened to me driving _every second_?"

"Not now, Bones," he shook his head, speaking in a voice low enough for only her to hear before shifting to a louder volume. "Bathroom break for everyone. We're not stopping on the way home."

"That means there's a crime scene to get to fast," Parker informed the others knowingly.

"Are we going to a real crime scene?" Joey bounced along excitedly as they walked to the restrooms.

"I want to go to the lab," Maddie put in.

"I'm perfectly capable of driving at high speeds," Temperance put in, drawing odd looks from the people they passed.

"Ca-_May_ we use the siren?" Sadie tugged at Seeley's shirtsleeve. "Please! I know where to switch to turn it on is!"

Seeley spun around, halting just outside of the restroom doors, pointing to each of them in turn.

"Yes, there's a crime scene; one that only _I_ am going to. The lab will come later and your mom and I will discuss if it's appropriate for the three of you to come. You," he pointed to his wife, "don't have the proper authorization to drive with the siren on-"

"Yay! The siren!" Sadie cheered.

"It's not a toy," Seeley told her gently but firmly.

"Won't it get loud using it all the way home?" Maddie wondered out loud.

"Yup," he confirmed, "that's what the flashing lights are for once we're free of the heavy traffic. Now," he addressed the small group as a whole, "let's get moving and get this show on the road."

Bladders sufficiently emptied, they left the restaurant and were speeding down the highway, siren blaring as they hurdled toward D.C. Once they reached the open road Seeley kept the lights on but muted the siren. A debate instantly broke out as to what movie would be watched on the portable DVD player.

"So," Temperance began in a low voice as the strains of the opening credits' music filled the cab, "what is going on? Why was Deputy Director Mitchell so insistent we return post haste? And was I mistaken when I heard that only _you_ are going to the crime scene?"

Seeley's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles going white with the effort and he looked in the rearview mirror for a long moment before replying, "You remember the map angle Ange and Perotta were following up on?"

"Yes."

"Well, Ange was able to predict the general area where the next body dump would be so Perotta's been keeping a lookout for anything happening in that area and-" he hesitated.

"A body was found," she stated simply.

Seeley nodded, "Mitchell wants me on this yesterday to see if it can be connected to our serial killer."

"He's already killed this year, though, "she reminded him. "Why would he shift tactics?"

"I'm not sure, but we can't afford to be too careful with this," he shook his head. "Connections are what I'll be looking for tonight."

"Without me," there was a trace of annoyance she couldn't restrain.

He looked at her sideways, "This one's not your kind of body, you realize?"

She nodded, "I surmised as much; however, I can still be of assistance in an observational capacity."

Beside her, she felt more than saw his body tense, shoulders squaring for a fight before he glanced over at her, "I know that you _can_ but I also know you won't."

"Booth-"

"No, Bones, listen," his voice grew earnest. "For one thing, this is Cam's territory so we're going to give it to her, and for another, _you_ are needed elsewhere."

"So you're taking me to the lab?" she guessed, attempting to follow his logic.

"I'm taking you home," he corrected gently.

"Oh."

Laughter erupted from the back seats, triggering a wave of doubt within her. What yesterday had seemed like such a right and worthwhile choice now felt like a heavy burden.

"You okay?" he asked cautiously after several minutes of silence lay between them.

She considered the question, then answered, "Yes. Objectively speaking, you're correct; however, I confess to an irrational amount of frustration and jealousy for my part."

"I'm not shutting you out," he assured her. "If the remains were skeletal, I'd have called Max to watch the kids in a heartbeat, but…" he trailed off.

"No bones, no Bones," she gave him a small, wry grin.

Their eyes met briefly before he increased their speed and set his focus back on the road, the earlier tension draining from his frame. Landscapes that they had passed on the drive up now flew by and she was impressed with how he maintained control; especially as they neared the beltway and the volume of traffic increased. At one point, he had to use the siren again, and when he reached the city limits, he contacted the dispatcher to apprise them of his location.

"Can I take your car when we get back?" he asked when they were within five miles of the house.

"Why?"

"Because this thing's packed to the gills with Maddie and Joey's stuff," he explained easily, "and I don't have time to help you unpack."

She gave him permission, thinking as they pulled into the driveway that one of the first things they would need to do was purchase another vehicle that was large enough for all of them. They had discussed doing so over the summer, but now that this was a more permanent arrangement it was a necessity rather than a luxury.

After a hurried round of hugs and goodbyes, Seeley drove off hastily in her car, disappearing into the night. With a precision practiced on countless interns over the years she organized the unpacking effort. An assembly line stretching from her position unloading the car-top carrier to Sadie's holding open the front door made quick work of the task.

The phone rang just as she sent four unenthusiastic children upstairs to ready for bed. She explained to Rebecca what had transpired and promised to that either she or Seeley would take Parker to school the next morning. The chatted idly for a few minutes until Parker came down to tell his mother about his day and tell her goodnight.

Leaving him some privacy she moved upstairs to check in on the rest of the bedtime proceedings. Joey was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, while Sadie helped her older sister arrange her things in their room.

"Look, Mommy!" Sadie held up a stuffed replica of a cartoon Hershey's Kiss. "Maddie got it for me at Chocolate World."

Temperance nodded approvingly at the silver creature, "That was very kinds of her. Did you say thank you?"

"Thanks, Maddie!" the little girl exclaimed, launching a hug at her sister.

"You're welcome," Maddie managed, gasping slightly at the tight embrace.

"It's time for bed, Sadie," Temperance announced.

"What about Maddie?" the little girl asked petulantly.

"She'll join you in a bit."

"It's not fair," Sadie pouted, flouncing on her bed.

Maddie ducked her read and slipped out of the room.

"In this instance, it is fair," Temperance joined her daughter on the bed, coaxing her into her lap. "Maddie is six years your senior. Would it be _fair_ to require her to go to bed at the same time as you simply because you wish it?"

Blonde ringlets shook grudgingly.

"Disappointments are a part of life," she kept her voice soft, stroking Sadie's hair. "Sometimes they are fair; other times they are not. What is important is that you react with dignity whether you feel you have been treated fairly or not. Tonight," she smiled at the confusion on Sadie's face, "that means going to bed without argument or complaint."

"Okay," Sadie yawned. "But ca-may I stay up late when I get older like Maddie?"

"Yes," she nodded, "you may."

"Thanks," Sadie smiled back, then looked thoughtful. "Does Daddy get to stay up later than you since he's older?"

"While that is a very logical conclusions the answer is no," she kissed Sadie, tucking her in securely. "Bed times are not assigned once one becomes an adult."

"Lucky," came the sleepy reply. "Will I be an adult soon?"

"Not for many years," she answered, turning off the lights. "Good night, Sadie. Sleep well."

"Night, Mommy. I love you."

"I love you too," Temperance answered, exiting the room and closing the door gently behind her.

Five minutes later, Joey was similarly tucked in; though with fewer complaints as Parker declared that he was tired as well and ready for bed. The boys chorused good night to her and she heard nothing until she reached the top of the stairs. Knowing from three years' experience that they would soon settle down she descended into the living room.

Maddie was curled up in a corner of the couch, reading, but set down her book and began talking as Temperance joined her. They discussed all of the miscommunication that had transpired on Maddie's end earlier in the day, concluding that they were both pleased Maddie hadn't been expelled. Conversation then turned to what the girl's thoughts were concerning going to a new school. She related that her preference would be the small private school that Sadie attended, not only because she wished to see Sadie more often, but also because of their notable high-school science program.

It was nearly an hour later when she sent a tired Maddie up to her room and began tidying up the lower level before allowing herself to relax. A knock on the door pulled the scientist away from the journal article she'd been reading. She looked at the monitor from the security camera on the front porch and hid a confused frown from the person on the other side before opening the door.

"Why are you here?"


	55. Spiral

Chapter 55: Spiral

Booth phoned the dispatcher as he sped through the night, not sure if he should be thankful or disturbed that the crime scene was only eight miles from his house. Bones' sports car made good time and it wasn't hard to spot the group of official vehicles that had assembled. A city cop waved him through the cordoned off alley at the flash of his badge and Booth was unsurprised to find that the FBI forensics team as well as a van from the Jeffersonian had beaten him here.

"Status?" he asked, shrugging on the flack jacket that was passed to him as he joined Perotta and Cam.

"Call came into D.C. HQ around five," Perotta filled him in. "My contact called me, I called Mitchell, Mitchell called you. My orders were to secure the scene and wait until you arrived for closer inspection, so we've been collecting periphery evidence but nothing in, around, or on the body."

"Same on my end," Cam spoke up. "I've got Hodgins here to help but we were waiting on you to begin preliminary inspection."

""I'm here, so go to it," he nodded, reigning in his frustration at the hours they'd already lost.

Much as he'd appreciated the vote of confidence, putting the whole investigation on hold until he arrived seemed more than a little extreme to him. "Mitchell said this is where Ange predicted the next dump would be?" Booth confirmed, turning back to Perotta.

"This block," the other agent nodded. "We have agents looking for missing girls in the corresponding location, but no one's turned up yet."

"They will," Sweets stepped into the conversation uninvited. "It fits the pattern."

"Aren't you up past your bed time, Sweets?" Booth raised an eyebrow, wondering who had let the kid come out and play.

"I thought that perhaps viewing the crime scene first-hand could lend insight as to why the killer has escalated all of a sudden," Sweets explained.

"Yeah, well, don't come crying to me if you have nightmares, okay?" he leveled a gaze at him.

"There _must_ be a reason that a man who has exercised so much control and restraint to suddenly break out of his established time table and kill again," the psychologist ignored the jab.

Booth listened with half an ear as he began moving up the alley toward the body. He nodded a greeting to Hodgins who was collecting his own samples.

"Anything interesting?" he asked Cam.

"Actually-"

She never got any further than that because as Booth bent down for a closer look at what she was pointing at, something grazed the tips of his hair where his head had been and seconds later ricocheted off metal with a loud clang.

"Take cover," he barked.

For a split second, he thought about Perotta and Cam, but realized that they could handle themselves and grabbed Sweets by the scruff of the neck instead; flinging him behind the dumpster to his left before risking a glance to make sure Hodgins was following.

"Get in!" he shoved the entomologist to join Sweets, just as a large net dropped from up above.

Honed reflexes moved him out of the way just in time and he slammed into the brick wall, sliding in to join Hodgins and Sweets, and drawing his firearm in one swift move. A hailstorm of bullets rained down on the alley and Booth heard return shots being fired as well.

With his free hand he punched the speedial on his phone, "This is 22705 do _not_, I repeat do _not_ send in backup! It's a trap!"

Realizing that he was talking to static and that the signal must've been jammed, he slammed the phone closed and focused back on the unfolding scene.

"AH!" Sweets' scream echoed shrilly off of the dumpster as a bouncing bullet made its way inside the makeshift barricade. Booth turned, swearing under his breath as he realized that _he_ wasn't facing the gunman; Sweets was.

"Lemme through," he hissed to Hodgins, pressing the smaller man against the brick wall as he squeezed past.

Sweets, meanwhile, had started babbling on about the guy and his control issues again so Booth clapped a hand over the kid's mouth, all but picking him up and putting him behind where Hodgins had flattened himself against the wall.

"Head down. Mouth closed," Booth ordered Sweets before turning to Hodgins. "You figure out how we're gonna use what we've got to take this guy out."

"Where is he?" Hodgins was all business.

"Three meters up, at least four out," he craned his neck for the clearest vantage point. "I can't get a good enough shot without broadcasting our position."

"Supplies?"

"Whatever you've got on you and whatever's on the ground," Booth told him.

Muttering something about MacGyver, Hodgins started busying himself, leaving Booth free to try and figure out why the shooting pattern had changed all of a sudden.

"Booth-" Sweets' called timidly.

"Not now," he ground out.

"Yes, now!" the kid squeaked back, fear in his voice.

Booth turned once more, following Sweets' line of vision far up above their heads. The fire escape ladder creaked ominously as a series of well-aimed bullets began loosening it.

"Jack, I need something now!" he yelled.

"Working on it," the other man said distractedly, searching the alcove for something to use.

Without warning, Hodgins shot up, pushing past Booth to get a better look at the shooter. Bits of mortar peppered them as the seconds dragged out while he thought. Booth was about to question him again when the scientist gave a triumphant yelp.

"Booth, you got your lighter on you?" he asked, waving around his finds.

"Nice," Booth smirked at the cans of hairspray and began digging for his Zippo. "I'd use the one on the right."

"Okay…" Hodgins' eyebrow disappeared into his curly hair.

"Son of a barber," Booth reminded him, allowing himself a slight smile. "Jared and I used to set those things off all the time."

"Right," Hodgins wore a smirk of his own. "Lighter?"

Booth tossed it to him, watching as Hodgins fished around and jury-rigged a fairly decent launch pad, checking the angles as he went. Above them, the fire escape groaned and one hinge fell off.

"Cover your ears!" Hodgins warned, lighting the makeshift fuse.

With a shriek the can ignited; flying through the air and striking its intended target dead-on. From across the alley, the shooter yelled as the escape ladder he'd been standing on released, dumping him unceremoniously to the ground. Booth lost no time moving out from behind the dumpster, but found the alley floor littered with cargo nets, making it difficult for him to keep his footing. By the time he was free of them, the shooter was back on his feet and gone; swallowed by the dark, D.C. streets.

"Booth, Cam's hurt," were the three words that stopped Booth from plunging between the buildings himself after him. It was only when he swung back around toward Hodgins' voice that the state of things struck him.

Four of the seven-member tech team were staggering out from their hiding spots, tripping over the same heavy nets he had. Bullet-riddled walls surrounded them and they all shuddered as the fire escape above where Booth, Sweets, and Hodgins had been hiding finally crashed to the ground. Carefully, Booth picked his way over to a second set of dumpsters, where a small group huddled around Cam, who was conscious but grimacing in pain.

"Through and through," Perotta reported, holding Cam's arm fast to staunch the blood. "Got her just before we took cover."

Booth grabbed Sweets' suit jacket from his back, ripping out its lining to make a tourniquet.

"Pining for the old cop days, Camille?" he knelt beside her, securing the fabric tightly against her as Perotta moved out of the way.

He was relieved to see her weak grin as he propped her up against the dumpster.

"Is that jamming down yet?" he asked anyone listening.

Three cell phones flipped open and a chorus of "no" came back to him.

"I'll look for the transceiver," Hodgins volunteered, eager for something useful to do.

"Watch your step," Booth cautioned.

"Seeley," Cam's voice punched through her pain. "Techs in the cross-fire."

"I know," he grimaced, thinking of the three he hadn't accounted for, yet torn between his loyalty to his men and to one of his oldest friends.

"Go," she ordered. "I'll live."

He hated that she was right, but left Sweets to watch her either way. The other techs were already working to free their own, struggling under the nets' heavy weight. He and Perotta leant their strength, tipping the balance even as the city cops worked on moving the nets at the top of the alley.

One by one, the trapped men were freed and, to Booth's relief, found alive. Apparently, once they were down, the nets had acted as a shield and none of the bullet wounds had been fatal. By the time the last man was freed, backup had arrived and the new agents made quick work of clearing the remaining nets. The EMTs descended shortly thereafter.

"Sir, you're bleeding," one of the medics pointed to Booth's calf as he helped load Cam into the waiting ambulance.

Briefly he recalled one of the ricochets grazing him at one point and his back ribs were aching under the flack jacket from where it'd taken one as he'd shoved Hodgins in front of him, but it was nothing he needed to be dragged to the hospital for.

"Booth," Hodgins called, "you're gonna want to see this!"

"I'm good," Booth assured the medic.

He gave Cam's hand one last squeeze before hopping out of the ambulance and jogging back down the alley. Hodgins was standing in the narrow passageway where the shooter's ladder had dumped him, snapping pictures with the camera he'd brought for the original body.

"Couldn't find the transmitter, but he must've lost this in the dark," Hodgins observed, donning gloves and picking his find up so that Booth could see it.

Booth swore under his breath, whipping out his phone and then just as quickly putting it away.

"Sweets!" he bellowed at the kid, who was looking a little peaked, but uninjured. "You know how to find my house from here?"

"Yes," came the wary reply.

"I need you to get there as quickly as you can."

"Do I get to know why?" the shrink asked.

"_That_," Booth pointed to the gun in Hodgins' hand, "is a government-issue firearm, which means whoever was here is either FBI or CIA, and ten to one knows exactly where I live. _You_ need to get there before he does and make sure Bones and the kids are safe, because _I_ can't leave yet and because Bones is going to kill me if she finds out about this some other way."

He tossed Sweets the keys to Bones' car along with his ankle revolver just in case, showed him how to slip out without anyone else noticing, and sent him on his way; praying the entire time that he wasn't sending the kid into a second firefight.


	56. Sweet Talk

**For the first woman to call him Lancelot (she knows who she is).**

Chapter 56: Sweet Talk

Dr. Lance Sweets was the last person she had expected to see, nor could she fathom any reasons for him to be on her front steps at ten o'clock on a Sunday night, so she asked him.

"Oh-I-uh," he stumbled in response to her question. His phone rang before he could compose himself. "Excuse me," he said to her, then, "Hello?"

The person on the other end sounded agitated.

"Yes, I got there- here- did you want to talk to her yourself?"

An affirmative sound that was very familiar to her emanated from the phone and she took it from Sweets; stepping aside to admit him and rearming the security system once the door was closed, "Seeley?"

"Bones," the relief was evident in his voice, "you all okay over there?"

"Yes," she answered, "why would we not be? And why is Sweets here? Are you still processing the crime scene?"

"I'll be home soon, Bones, and we can talk," he promised. "Just keep the security system armed and don't open the door for _anyone_ buy me, okay?"

"Why?" she needed to know.

"See ya in a few, Bones," he blithely ignored her question. "I love you."

There was a click and the line went dead. She scowled at the phone, closed it, and returned it to its owner.

"You were with him," she stated more than asked. "What happened?"

The younger man paled slightly, then began fumbling in his pockets for something.

"Here," he mumbled, handing her Seeley's key ring. The revolver came next, dropped in her hand as if it was burning his.

This merely confirmed her theory as to where the psychologist had come from, but added more questions rather than answering any.

"Have a seat," she invited him into the living room. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee, perhaps? Booth said he would be here soon."

"No coffee, thanks," he shook his head vigorously and collapsed onto the couch. "Water maybe?"

She nodded, moving to the kitchen to prepare a pot of coffee anyway. Her presumption was that if Sweets had driven her car to the house, Seeley would need to procure another means of transportation. This no doubt meant that there was yet another late-night guest in transit.

Returning to the living room with Sweets' water, she thought to press him for answers, but stopped short as he gulped the liquid down rapidly, then leaned back and closed his eyes.

"Thank you," he said after a moment.

"Did you have to shoot someone?" she asked sympathetically, remembering how that had affected her the first time she had been forced to do so.

"No-no," he shook his head, eyes reopening.

"Did Booth?" she almost didn't want to hear the answer.

Sweets shook his head, "The gunman got away."

"_Gunman?"_

The whole thing was a total setup," he blew out a long breath. "We had all moved toward the back of the alley when the first shot went off. Booth, Hodgins, and I ended up behind a massive dumpster and we were sandwiched in," he gesticulated wildly. "Hodgins and Booth managed to pull some super-agent science moves and got the guy to take off, but not before he wreaked havoc on the alley."

"Was anyone injured?"

"Cam and three of the technicians," he nodded, "though none seriously, thanks to Booth."

She gave a half-smile at that, "Booth adapts very well to sudden change."

Sweets sat all the way up, meeting her eyes, "I'm sensing that you aren't referring entirely to tonight's events?"

She sighed, supposing it was only logical that he would pick up on the nuances of her speech after working in close proximity to them for so many years. Her views on psychology had not altered over time, but she had come to grudgingly accept that his observations were astute and his judgment sound.

"We've decided to adopt Maddie and Joey," she told him, knowing it would soon be public knowledge, but it didn't reveal too much.

"Wow! Really? That's great," his smile was wide and enthusiastic. "So they'll come here for good once the school year is over?"

Her lips pursed as she shook her head, "They're upstairs right now. That's why there was a delay in Booth's arrival at the crime scene."

There was no other answer she could have honestly given and she inwardly knew she'd divulged the meaning behind her earlier statement. His mouth opened to comment when, for the second time that night, there was a knock at the door. Sweets looked up instantly as Temperance rose to answer it.

"Did you even look to see who it was?" Seeley asked without preamble as she opened the door to admit him and Agent Perotta. "We could've been psycho serial killers!"

"I doubt they would knock," she said drily, not bothering to mention she had long ago come to recognize _his_ knock.

To her surprise he frowned minutely as if she had said something wrong, but covered it up just as quickly with a winning smile, rubbing his hands together, "You made coffee! Good! It's freezing out there. You want a cup, Perotta?"

The other agent shook her head, shifting her weight from one foot to another as if she felt very awkward, "I should get back to the Hoover. Get a running start on the paperwork."

"Great," he nodded, emerging from kitchen, steaming mug in hand. "Can you give the kid a lift too?" He turned to Sweets, "Unless you came from the lab?"

"Nope," the younger man shook his head, seeming much less shaken than when he'd first arrived. "I'm at the Hoover."

"Okay, good," Booth clapped him on the shoulder with an open palm. "I can't believe I'm going to say this but...I'm glad you were there…and here: to make sure my family was safe."

Perotta was already turning toward the door so Sweets had to hurry to stand up and join her. Hasty goodbyes were exchanged and as the door closed, silence descended on the house for the first time since she'd arrived home. Seeley sat down in his customary armchair and sipped at the coffee.

"Kids do okay for you?" he questioned her casually.

"Yes," as she nodded her eyes flicked over him, noting the blood on his jeans near his left calf. "You're injured."

"Flesh wound," he waved off her concern.

"Ricochet?"

"Yup," he smirked, "though no Amazonian was involved this time."

"They weren't real," she muttered, but accepted the tacit invitation of his open arms and sat down in his lap.

For a long moment, they were quiet, sharing his coffee and very aware of the fact that the night could have ended much differently.

"Did someone go to the hospital with Cam?" the thought occurred to her suddenly.

"Hodgins volunteered," he assured her. "It was a through and through, but they stabilized her and got her in right away. He'll keep us updated, but we can stop by first thing if you want."

"I'd like that," she nodded into his shoulder. "Are you certain you're alright?"

"Yeah, Bones, I am. Really," his voice was reassuring, but his hold on her tightened momentarily.

"How close did it come?" she asked, nearly a decade's worth of experience telling her he felt it had been.

"Too damn," he breathed before capturing her lips in his.


	57. Connections

Chapter 57: Connections

Booth reveled in the feel of her lips, so warm and rich and _alive_. Though he'd never admit it to her, he'd been more than happy that she'd been at home when the bullets had started flying. Bad enough he'd had to watch out for Hodgins and Sweets, let alone what had happened to Cam.

"What's wrong?" she whispered against his lips.

He didn't answer, but redoubled the passion he poured into the kiss.

"It's not your fault," this time her words brought him up short as she continued. "Cam, the other three men; their injuries were not your fault."

"They're my people," he insisted. "They trust _me_ to keep them safe."

"This doesn't change that," she rebutted, trailing a single finger down to linger on his chest. "You were not the shooter, Seeley."

The next kiss she offered granted more absolution than a thousand "Hail Marys" and reaffirmed just how much he needed _this_ woman in his life.

He flinched involuntarily as her fingers brushed the tender spot on his back and he was unsurprised when she stopped, eyes filling with concern. Before her realized what was happening, she'd hauled him to his feet and was stripping off his shirt.

"If you wanted me naked, Bones, all you had to do was ask," he tried lightening the mood.

She said nothing, but he felt her intense gaze rake his front before she turned him around to check his back. A small hiss escaped as her deft fingers gently probed where his flack jacket had halted the bullet's path.

"The bruise is deep but the bone's not broken," came her clinical assessment. "Sit down."

He did without argument and she left, returning quickly with her first aid kit. She sat down cross-legged in front of him and began gently rolling up the cuff of his jeans until his calf was exposed. Gritting his teeth he braced himself as the alcohol swab bit into his raw flesh.

"Sorry," she apologized as she cleaned it thoroughly. "I don't believe you'll need stitches."

"Good to know," he smiled at her through the pain.

"Sweets told me you were uninjured," she commented, wrapping the gauze around his leg.

"Yeah, well, he's gonna have nightmares as it is," he shrugged. "I didn't need to add to that."

"What happened?" she looked up at him. "Why was Sweets there? Do you think this incident is tied to our seial killer case? Did it yield any new clues to his identity?"

A ghost of a smile played at the corner of his mouth as she slipped the Sweets question in with all of the rest, revealing how much it rankled her.

"Oh, it was our guy all right, no doubt there," he let out a frustrated sigh. "He wanted us there and we played right into his hands. He had the whole alley rigged with nets to fall on us while he sat above to pick us off one by one."

"Sweets said something about a dumpster?" she asked when he paused.

He nodded, "There were two sets of 'em. I took Sweets and Hodgins one way and Perotta and Cam went the other."

"That's when your back was exposed," she deduced.

"At the time I thought I was the only one with a vest on," he explained. "Turns out Hodgins wears his own Kevlar, but the kid had nothing. And, yeah, I chewed Perotta up one side and down the other for taking Sweets out in the field and not making sure he was protected."

"He wasn't hurt," she reminded him.

"He could've been," he frowned, recalling what he and Hodgins had discovered. "Our guy rigged a semi-automatic to spray the area from one side of the alley, while he took potshots at us with a sniper rifle from the other side. I thought I was moving Sweets out of danger but instead I put him right in the line of fire."

"Was there any way you could've known that?" she asked quietly, settling back down in his lap.

There wasn't and they both knew it, so he tightened his hold on her and continued, "Hodgins found a third weapon and took it with him to analyze at the lab tomorrow- off the record."

"Why so covertly?"

"It was a standard-issue service firearm," he said grimly. "Around here only FBI and CIA agents carry that weapon, so I don't want the Bureau anywhere near that gun until I find out who it belongs to."

"You think another agent is behind this?" her eyes widened.

"Would explain how they kept all the murders off our radar for so many years too," he watched her absorb that before adding, "Bones, Mitchell was the one who held the investigation up specifically until I got back."

"Are you implying he was behind the ambush?" she asked carefully.

He let his head fall on her shoulder, sighing deeply, before he looked up again, "It's just too much of a coincidence for me to overlook, you know? And it's not like corruption hasn't been that far up the food chain before."

The name Kirby lay unspoken between them.

"We should go to bed," Bones' practical suggestion broke the silence as she slid from his lap and tossed his shirt back to him. "Parker's still here and I promised Rebecca we'd take him to school in the morning. Joey, by the way, has been rather insistent that he's going to school with Parker; though I believe the lack of a formal dress code is a contributing factor as well."

"Can't blame the kid for wanting to be able to wear whatever he wants," Booth grinned, flinging the shirt over his shoulder rather than putting it back on as they walked upstairs. "How about Maddie?"

"She seemed quite satisfied to abide by Sadie's wishes and we both agree the private school's science department is exemplary."

"Something you made sure of back when we picked it out for Sadie," he gave her a lopsided grin. "Does this mean I'll have three squints on my hands one of these days?"

"Perhaps," she shrugged, climbing under the covers, "Maddie's very intelligent and has a high aptitude for science-related subjects."

"I'm glad," he told her, stripping down to his boxers and joining her in bed.

"Yes, a career in science could take her far," she said sincerely, with a hint of pride.

"I'm happy for you," he smiled, flicking the light off and pulling her close.

"For me?"

"Yeah, I'm happy that you and Maddie have so many things in common," he kissed the top of her head. "That's important for mothers and daughters."

She nodded sleepily and relaxed into him, the steady beat of her heart eventually lulling him to sleep too. It was early when the alarm clock went off the next morning and he was surprised to find her wide awake, but still in bed and looking at him intently.

He opened his mouth to ask what she was thinking when she launched into a complicated itinerary for the morning that involved him taking the boys to school and enrolling Joey while she did the same thing for Maddie at the private school. She also planned on visiting Cam in the hospital before going to the lab, meanwhile he knew he'd be stuck either in meetings or doing paperwork surrounding what had gone down last night.

Around noon he managed to free himself for a few minutes to call her and touch base, and to let her know he wouldn't be leaving the office any time soon. After teasingly reminding her to get something to eat he reluctantly hung up, grabbed a quick lunch from the cafeteria, and got back to his own work.


	58. Responsible Adult

Chapter 58: Responsible Adult

Cam was awake and anxious to be free of the hospital's confines when Temperance arrived after dropping the girls off at school.

"Booth assured me that this is a customary gesture of goodwill," she explained as she handed over the small bouquet of flowers she'd purchased from the girt store on her way up.

The pathologist thanked her and managed a smile in response and they lapsed into an awkward silence.

"We're adopting Maddie and Joey," Temperance volunteered, feeling a need to fill the void.

"Congratulations," Cam smiled genuinely.

"We had just picked them up when Deputy Director Mitchell called."

"Ah."

"I assure you it won't affect my prestigious work ethic," the anthropologist added.

"Glad to hear it."

More silence.

"Are you healing satisfactorily?" Temperance asked.

"I think so," Cam nodded. "I caught a couple of bullets as a cop, so I've done this before."

"It's not a pleasant experience," she agreed, remembering her own gunshot wound to the arm.

"Nope. Is Seeley okay? I seem to remember the EMT saying he was bleeding. Plus I imagine he's knee-deep in self-flagellation by now over the whole thing."

"I believe I headed that particular tendency of his off," the women shared a knowing half-smile. "Physically, he is well too, though he was bleeding when he arrived home. One bullet grazed him, however it was superficial and his body armor absorbed most of the impact of the other bullet."

"We're lucky nobody ended up leaving in a body bag the way the bullets were flying," Cam commented, shaking her head.

"Except the victim," Temperance corrected. "Her body was sent to the Jeffersonian."

Cam grimaced, shifting in the bed, "There was something off about that body. I didn't get a long enough look to pin it down though."

"Is this an intuitive feeling or something more concrete?" Temperance wondered.

"Definitely intuitive," Cam confirmed. "Like I said, I didn't have time for anything more than a cursory exam when all hell broke loose." She looked down at her arm in its sling, "And who knows if I'll be able to do the autopsy?"

"While I'm not qualified to perform autopsies," she struggled to keep her revulsion at the thought off of her face, "I _will_ order a full set of x-rays and see if they offer any insights."

"That would be helpful," the pathologist nodded. "I'm hoping they'll discharge me this afternoon, but I still think I'm going to take a couple of personal days. The meds I'm on would _not_ mix well with using sharp implements."

"I can manage the lab in your absence," Temperance assured her. "I've learned quite a bit about interpersonal communication since Dr. Goodman left."

A nurse entered to take Cam's vital signs, curtailing any comments that may or may not have followed. Noting that it was already nearing nine o'clock, she bade Cam goodbye and hurried off to the lab. By the time she arrived, Hodgins, Angela, Clark, and Wendell had already gathered for the morning meeting.

"I will be acting as the interim administrator in Dr. Saroyan's stead while she recovers," Temperance announced. "And as I believe we are all capable enough to know what tasks are expected of us, I see no need to prolong this meeting. Any and all findings should be reported to me right away."

A stunned silence greeted her.

"Uh, Dr. Brennan," Wendell spoke up, "what are Dr. Edison and I supposed to do?"

"Take a full set of x-rays of the girl found in the alley and deliver them to me as soon as possible." She looked around the room, "Are there any further questions?"

"How's Cam?" Angela wanted to know.

"She believes she is healing satisfactorily and hopes to be discharged later this afternoon," she reported.

Without waiting for any further questions she shouldered her bag and left for her office.

"So," Angela fell into step with her, settling on the couch while Temperance moved behind her desk, "I'll take Cam something tonight assuming she's home and you can cover tomorrow; maybe do that macaroni dish Booth's always raving about. Or chicken. Cam likes chicken."

"Is this something we're doing because we're the girls?" she asked long-sufferingly as her computer booted up.

"No, Bren," the artist corrected gently, "it's something we're doing because she's our friend and that's what friends do. Booth had a whole army cooking for him while you were missing. And just so you know, I'm signing Wendell and Clark up too. I have a schedule."

Temperance nodded in reply and was about to comment when an inter-office courier arrived with paperwork for her to sign off on as acting administrator. Then Hodgins dropped by, requesting Angela's aid, leaving Brennan to review the material she would be covering with her grad students later that afternoon.

As the morning progressed, it became more and more apparent that the administrative side of the lab was multi-faceted and consumed a great deal of one's time. Supply requisitions, approvals for tests as well as experiments, disputes between colleagues, and scheduling conflicts were brought to her office for deliberation. The more inane things were simple, but the ones that required her judgment on matters outside her usual jurisdiction left her with a pounding headache.

The headache was not improved when alarms filled the air, bringing to her feet in an instant even as the doors to the lab locked them in. Smoke was filtering through the air as she ran, her mind flashing back to another time and another fire. This time, however, the grad student involved was fine, though slightly puzzled as to why his boss kept looking at his hands. Hodgins was fine too, wearing a slightly sheepish grin and cheeks that were heated either from the fire or embarrassment- she couldn't tell.

On most days, it wouldn't have bothered her that he'd attempted to recreate the hairspray launch that had likely spared his and Seeley's lives the night before. She would have been diverted, though she would have gently reproved him for the sake of her impressionable intern. Today, however, she found out that a fire strong enough to set off the alarms and seal the lab comes with its own ream of paperwork for the acting administrator and that did not amuse her. Her reproof was not gentle and she required them to clean up the mess without any aid from the janitorial staff.

At exactly eight minutes after twelve, she had just gotten back to her office when her phone rang. The caller ID informed her it was the one person she was willing to talk to at the moment. She had been hoping to consult with Seeley as to how best to handle certain aspects of her new responsibilities- or at least fill him in on the events that had transpired thus far- and was disappointed to find that he too was overwhelmed with work and unable, even, to meet for lunch. So she listened to him "vent" and kept her own frustrations to herself until he had to get back to work.

Relief did not begin to describe her emotions when Angela walked in just a few minutes later unannounced, bearing bags containing soup, salad, and fresh bread, and locking the door behind her.

"I'm not certain how Cam accomplishes anything of value," she admitted as the two relaxed on her couch. "Just when I settle one group's concerns, another problem arises to take its place."

"And you thought you _wanted_ Cam's job," her friend laughed.

"I think I'd prefer pure research over this," she smiled back.

"Do you ever think about going back to that?" Angela's tone shifted slightly. "Like maybe it wouldn't be so bad to get away from the death and the violence even just for a little bit?"

"Death is an inevitable part of life, Ange," she shook her head. "No one can escape it and my chosen profession in one that requires a great deal of exposure to it. Yes, a respite to simply study the past would be appealing; but not satisfying enough to encompass an entire career."

"You don't get tired of the violence?" Angela repeated. "I mean, this guy we're tracking down- the one who nearly killed both of our husbands list night, by the way- is one sick SOB. And he's not the first one we've come up against by a long shot."

"On one level, yes, it's wearisome," she conceded, "and as a mother with a daughter old enough to be one of this man's victims it disturbs me even further. But if enduring those disturbing feelings and applying my efforts to his capture spares his next potential victim, then no- I would not wish for a respite in pure research."

A knock on the door interrupted them and she got up to admit Wendell.

"Dr. Brennan, I think you'll want to look at these films from the girl in the alley," he said quickly, handing her his computer tablet.

She scrolled through the images, noting the areas Wendell had highlighted and forming a hypothesis regarding the girl's condition as she went.

"What is it, Bren?" Angela rose from the couch and peered over her shoulder. "What are those?"

"Dr. Bray?" she smiled slightly, deferring to the younger scientist.

"Tumors," he explained to Angela, "cancerous ones too if you look at the shape and how they've spread. This girl wasn't murdered- she'd already died."

"No wonder missing persons didn't have any matches," Angela shook her head sadly.

"She hasn't been dead long," he added. "There were no signs of embalming fluid and almost no decomp."

"Any indications of thawing?" Brennan asked.

"Nothing on the outside, but I'm not pathologist," Wendell shrugged.

"Your hypothesis?" she quizzed.

"Stolen body," his answer was swift and sure, "probably from a hospital morgue."

"I concur," she nodded. "It also supports Booth's theory that last night's events were premeditated. Ange," she addressed the artist, "will you start searching local hospital records for missing bodies?"

"Sure," the artist agreed, "might be tricky, though. Advertising that you've lost a body isn't exactly good PR."

"You may have to call them directly," Brennan nodded before turning back to Wendell. "Have Hodgins assist you and Dr. Edison in scouring the body's surface for evidence our thief may have inadvertently left behind."

The two dipped their heads in acknowledgment and left just as a group of grad students began to gather just outside of her office. Alarms blared once more, followed by thin wisps of smoke curling from the direction of the Ookie Room. Determining that Hodgins was an adult and could put out his own fires, she took the five minutes remaining until she was obligated to meet her students and adjourned to the private lavatory she shared with Cam and Angela.

Somewhere between dabbing cold water on her face and readjusting her ponytail, she decided that if preparing meals for Cam would help expedite the other woman's return to her administrative duties, Temperance would personally see to it that every spot on Angela's meal schedule was filled.


	59. Evidence

**Both of my kids came down with colds and then decided to share with me, so this is getting up WAY later than I mean for it to! **

Chapter 59: Evidence

Cullen had been just as upset as Booth over how someone had managed to get the drop on them. Once they were through all of the official debriefings, Booth pulled the other man aside and confided in him about the odd orders that had come down from Deputy Director Mitchell the day before as well as the service pistol Hodgins had found. It was fair to say Cullen wasn't too thrilled that Booth had kept such key evidence off the books for the time being, but he understood Booth's reasoning and allowed it as long as he was kept in the loop. Neither one of them relished the thought of crooked agents working side-by-side with them unawares, but it had happened enough times in the past that they agreed they couldn't be too careful.

At two-thirty he loaded all of his unfinished paperwork into the SUV, picked Maddie and Sadie up, and then headed across town to collect Joey. It was an hour later before they got to the lab, where he released them to Max's after-school science club, dumped his paperwork in his wife's office, and made for the forensic platform.

He changed course when he noticed the herd of squinterns gathered Bones and headed for Hodgins' workstation instead.

"How's she doing?" he asked low enough so his voice didn't carry.

"Aside from the little fire that she nearly bit my head off at?" Hodgins shrugged, "Okay I guess. If she was Santa, though, I'd definitely be on the naughty list."

There was a bit of an awkward silence at the tinge of hurt in Hodgins' voice, so they both turned and watched the students hang on her every word.

"Is it finals time already?" Booth finally managed.

"Next month," Hodgins nodded. "This is the pre-finals pep-talk."

"Scary thing is, I've been hanging around here long enough I could almost give that talk for her," Booth chuckled softly. "I wonder if those kids have any clue what they're in for when they apply study under her."

"Probably not," the bug man smirked. "She only accepts the best though, and the ones who survive earn major bragging rights in the field. They can also go on and work just about anywhere, especially since they're all…"

"Board certified," Booth chorused with him as they exchanged a knowing look.

As if on cue, they heard Bones launch into that part on her speech, emphasizing the credibility it leant to the discipline of forensic science as a whole. Then just as quickly, she switched tacks and went back to giving them a laundry list of what she expected them to know for the final.

"Think you could survive one of her classes?" Hodgins elbowed the FBI agent.

"You're kidding, right?" he arched an eyebrow. "I'm still waiting for the day she figures out just how little she needs me anymore and kicks me to the curb. It's been a few years since she's told me how stupid I am, though, so I've got that going for me."

Hodgins gave him a goofy grin, shaking his head, "Man, I forgot she used to do that! 'Course you used to fall asleep during her lectures, too."

"One time," Booth threw up his arms in defense, "and I'd been out late the night before too."

"Whatever," the grin exploded into a laugh. "I think she figured out a long time ago, though, that this thing we've got going for us here doesn't work unless you're in the equation."

"Speaking of which," Booth cleared his throat, "you got anything for me from last night?"

"Oh yeah," Hodgins slipped into squint mode. "The bugs around the body pretty much confirm that it was only there a few hours at most. And-" he stopped mid-thought, "Have you talked to Dr. B at all on this today?"

"Nope," he grimaced, "I went from one debriefing to the next and then got bogged down in paperwork that I still haven't finished. Why?"

"Well," Hodgins leaned back in his chair, "she and Wendell figured out from the x-rays that the girl in the alley wasn't murdered, she had terminal cancer. Ange is checking with local hospitals to see if any recent patients match her description, but it's a long shot."

"Tells me it was definitely a setup," Booth frowned.

"Yeah," the other man agreed, "her clothes didn't get us very far, though; no particulates outside of ones from the alley. My guess is they're brand new."

Booth scribbled away in his notebook as Hodgins talked, then looked up, "What about-"

"The gun?" Hodgins cut him off, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've been all over that. There weren't any prints on the gun itself but serial number's still there so we can match it to whoever it's registered too, _plus_ I found prints on the bullets, _and_ there were some skin cells caught in it, so I'm running DNA on that too. It's taking a little bit longer to match the prints because Ange figured out a way to get into the server without alerting anyone over at the FBI, but we should have it soon."

"I hope you're not using my name in vain, Hodgie," the forensic artist's sultry voice sounded.

"Never," he promised, grabbing her by the hip and pulling her in for a passionate kiss.

"Get a room," Booth muttered, noting that twenty pairs of eyes were now fastened on them.

"You've got a wife, man, go get her," Hodgins pulled back long enough to dare him.

Booth peeked up at the platform and saw Bones' eyes widen in fear just a fraction and quickly shook his head, "_I_ am a gentleman and a _gentleman_ is discreet."

"One of these days," Angela grinned, "you _will_ slip at work and I _will_ snag the video footage. Count on it, G-man; especially now that there are more kids than adults in your house."

"Did this little jaunt of yours have a point, or did you just feel like groping Hodgins?" Booth tapped his foot impatiently.

"Hodgins isn't complaining," Angela smirked as she went in for another kiss.

"Angela. Name." Booth snapped his fingers.

"Right," she opened the file she was holding. "The gun's registered to one Special Agent Caleb Fuller. I couldn't pull anything past that without the system knowing I was poking around. DNA's not back yet, either."

Booth swore, taking the file to read for himself, and then bellowed for his wife. She was out of her lab coat, matching him stride for stride in no time flat and after a quick pit stop by her office they headed out. Before he was even out of the parking lot he was on the phone to Cullen. Booth asked his boss to get in touch with Sweets and Caroline and they agreed to meet in the Deputy Director's office. Next he made a quick call to Max, who volunteered to take the kids home and stay with them for as long as he was needed.

They were halfway to the Hoover when he realized that she hadn't said anything yet, but instead was looking blankly out the window.

"You okay, Bones?" he asked as casually as possible.

"Fine," she said shortly in a tone that said she was anything but.

"Uh huh," he tried to decide whether or not it was safe to pry any further. "Hodgins said you were a little out of sorts this morning," he said lightly.

She pulled even further away from him, eyes narrowing into a glare, "We have a job to do, _Agent Booth_. I would suggest we focus on that for the time being."

If the formal title wasn't enough to convince him he'd said the wrong thing, the slamming door as soon as he pulled into his space in the Hoover garage was and he had to jog to catch up to her.

"Whoa there, Bones, wait up," his voice echoed uselessly.

He finally caught up to her at the elevators. The doors dinged, opening to admit them and the two agents already inside took one look at the ticked off forensic anthropologist and cleared out, shooting him sympathetic looks as they passed. The doors closed on them and she jabbed the button that would take them to Cullen's floor.

"What are you doing?" she demanded as he reached across her body and chose the button for his floor instead.

The car stopped at the ground level, admitting several people and he moved closer to her, shaking his head and praying she'd let it drop until they were alone. She did and soon enough he was steering her into his office with his hand resting lightly on the small of her back.

"We need to go to Cullen's office," she protested.

"We have a few minutes to spare and this needs to be sorted out first," he countered, closing the blinds.

"I'm-"

"Stressed out and snipping at anyone who comes near, I got that," he nodded, standing toe to toe with her. "What happened at the lab this morning? Besides Hodgins' fire?"

For a moment he felt her tense and wondered if she'd just clam up, but then her shoulders slumped ever-so-slightly and she started talking. Like the unpacking of a suitcase she began listing all of the brush fires- literal and metaphorical- that she'd had to put out.

"So you see," she concluded when her brief rant was over, straightening back up, "it appears I'm not as adept at handling the administrative responsibilities of the lab as I thought I would be; though right now I shouldn't be burdening you with any of this as we have a job to do."

She made a move for the door but he caught her arm, pulling her back to him.

"Hey, helping with burdens? That's something a god partner _and_ husband does." He laid a quick kiss on her brow, "And clearing the air between us just helps us do our job that much better. Now, we'll pick up this topic again later, but from what I can tell you did just fine today."

She gave a quick nod, frame relaxing the most it had since he'd picked her up. At an unspoken cue they turned and left the same way they'd entered, heading for the elevators. Sweets was in the car when the doors opened and chattered non-stop until the three of them reached Cullen's office. Caroline was just behind them and closed the door behind her.

"You plannin' on tellin' us what this meet-n-greet's all about, Booth?" Caroline asked impatiently while Cullen hid a smile from behind his desk.

"Sorry, Caroline," he gave her a charm smile before growing serious and addressing the room. "We might have a security leak on this one. This file," he handed over Angela's results to Cullen, "proves that our guy in the alley was Special Agent Fuller."

Caroline and Cullen merely nodded, while Sweets turned several shades paler at the news that someone he had worked closely with in the past might have been trying to kill him.

"Actually," Bones corrected, craning her neck to view the file, "if I'm not mistaken that merely proves that Agent Fuller's weapon was in the alley. There's no way a DNA profile could have been compiled yet even if it was expedited."

"I _know_ it was him, Sir," Booth put into Cullen. "The build of the man I saw matches Fuller's without a doubt."

"What do you need?" the other man lifted an eyebrow over Bones' huff of displeasure.

"First he needs to make damn sure this evidence is iron-clad before he goes after one of his own," Caroline threw her two cents into the ring.

"My people don't do sub-standard work," an agitated Bones spoke up defensively.

"It'll hold up once we have the DNA," Booth assured the lawyer before turning back to Cullen. "I was Fuller's file so that Sweets can go over it; see if he fits the profile for our serial killer too."

"Do we know if he has an insider here?" Cullen alluded to Mitchell.

"No, but we don't know that he doesn't," Booth shook his head. "I want to do this as quietly as we can just in case."

Cullen flicked his eyes over to Caroline and handed her the file, "Is this enough for an arrest warrant?"

She perused it, her frown deepening as she read before concluding, "Not without matching prints or DNA."

"How quickly can you get the results?" Cullen addressed Bones.

She shrugged, "Tomorrow. Possibly sooner if you could provide a sample for us to do a basic comparison."

"We've got it on record here," Cullen told her, then turned back to Booth. "I'll make sure Dr. Sweets has Fuller's file by day's end."

"Is he on assignment right now?" Booth asked the question he'd been dreading since he found out whose gun they had.

"He's between missions," Cullen confirmed to Booth's relief, "though that doesn't mean he hasn't taken off already."

"No," Sweets spoke up with confidence for the first time. "He'll retreat to his own home where he can maintain complete control of his surroundings; especially if he was wounded at all when he fell."

"Okay, then," Cullen leaned back in his chair. "Dr. Sweets, you can stay here and wait for the file while Ms. Julian waits for the Jeffersonian to confirm DNA and get us an arrest warrant."

"What about Booth and me?" Bones wanted to know.

"Officially," Cullen said, speaking slowly and deliberately, "go home, put your kids to bed, and wait for things to clear the appropriate channels."

"And unofficially?" she cocked her head, waiting.

"If it was my case I'd make sure that one of the most skilled undercover agents in the Bureau didn't decide to go AWOL on you," he answered simply, folding his hands on his desk. "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have work to do."

They filed out of his office, Bones pouting slightly and turning on Booth as soon as they were back in the SUV.

"What did Cullen mean?" she asked. "How are we supposed to make sure he doesn't leave?"

"Well, Bones," he replied with a gleam in his eye, "it looks like it's time for a good old-fashioned stakeout."


	60. Something to Talk About

Chapter 60: Something to Talk About

A thrill of excitement passed through her at the word "stakeout" and she knew the grin on her face was giving her away.

"When do we leave?" she asked eagerly.

"Soon, but not right away," Seeley said as he pulled into traffic.

"But Cullen advised-"

"I know and we will, but we're not going to jump into this without a plan," he interrupted. "I'll call one of my cop buddies to drive by and confirm Fuller's at home and we'll go from there."

"And until then?" she questioned just before she realized the exit he was taking. "Why are we going home?"

"First, because there are three kids there waiting for us, second because I'm not going to a stakeout in my suit, and third because I need to talk to Max."

"You're not going to leave me at home and take my father instead, are you?" she asked, suspicious.

"Nope, you're my girl for stakeouts," he assured her with a smile, "but to do that we need Max to stay with the kids."

She nodded, accepting the logic in his plan. For a split-second she thought that she really should insist he take her back to the lab considering how abruptly she had left, but upon further consideration she decided that for the first time in years the Jeffersonian was the last place she wanted to be.

The last vestiges of the tension she'd carried all day faded at the sight of Maddie, Joey, and Sadie chasing her father around the front yard.

"We're playing football!" Sadie informed them as she bounded up to the SUV. "It's me and Grandpa against Maddie and Joey. We're winning. Wanna play?"

"Yeah!" Joey chimed in, taking Seeley's hand and dragging him into the yard. "Not that you're here, Daddy, we can play boys against the girls."

"We'll beat you," Maddie boasted confidently.

"Uh huh, 'cause we have Mommy and she's a genius," Sadie added, catching her mother's hand and holding on tightly.

"Geniuses don't count in football," Joey scoffed.

Sadie started to retort but Seeley cut her off, "Okay, that's enough you guys. Mom and I can't play right now anyway."

"How come?" Joey pouted.

"We're in our work clothes, kiddo," he said easily, "and by the time we change it'll be time for dinner."

"What about after dinner?" Maddie questioned.

"Not tonight," he shook his head. "We have to go back to work."

A chorus of protests went up from all three children.

"Mommy," Sadie tugged at Temperance's sleeve, "are we going to Uncle Jack's?"

"I can stay," Max volunteered before she could answer, "If the kids want me to."

"Are you certain?" she asked him, ignoring the youthful shouts of affirmation around them.

He nodded solemnly.

"Good, then that's settled," Seeley gave a smile and tilted his head in the direction of the house. "Let's get changed, Bones."

They did, being careful to select clothes that would be comfortable for untold hours of sitting in the car. A cacophony of voices greeted them as they rejoined the others.

"What's for dinner?" Joey asked.

"Spaghetti," Seeley answered, "but I'm gonna need some help from my three junior agents."

The room stilled, all attention turning to Seeley.

"What're the teams?" Joey asked expectantly.

Seeley pretended to contemplate the question, "How about Grandpa and Sadie set the table, while Mom and Maddie tackle the salad and garlic bread?"

"What about us?" the little boy sounded concerned.

Temperance hid a smile as her husband winked conspiratorially at Joey, remembering how he used to employ the same theatrics on another tow-headed seven-year old years ago.

"Well, Joe, I'm gonna teach _you_ how to make the super secret Booth family sauce," he revealed, to the boy's growing delight.

"Which he hasn't taught _me,_" Temperance put in, only half-feigning annoyance.

"Well, Bones, that's because you have to be a Booth _man_ to get the secret," he grinned, thumping Joey's back.

Joey beamed up at the only man he had known as a father, pride at his inclusion as one of the "Booth men" evident.

Once they began, the work was completed quickly and efficiently. Seeley excused himself at one point to take a call, but was back shortly to continue coaching Joey, with no indication that he had received bad news. Meanwhile, as they chopped vegetables, Maddie questioned Temperance as to the true nature of the work they were returning to that night. She replied only that it was in connection with the case they were currently working on, but refused to divulge anything further and was relieved when Maddie seemed to accept her answer.

An hour and a half after they'd started it, the partners finished eating the meal and began gathering all of the necessary paraphernalia they would need for the stakeout. Amid a flurry of unhappy goodbyes and extra long hugs that suggested Maddie wasn't the only one who realized they weren't merely returning to the Jeffersonian, they left; each feeling slightly more guilty than they were willing to admit to one another.

"Was Fuller at his house?" she asked as they made their way back into the city.

"Yup," Booth nodded. "I've got a guy on him right now, who we'll relieve, not to mention a plainclothes cop who's closer to the house."

"I thought we would be the only ones there."

"Yeah, well, I realized that this thing screams 'FBI' so having a guy in a regular car will get us an up close look without rousing his suspicions," he explained. "Guaranteed he'll bolt if he thinks we're onto him and I don't even want to think about what would happen if his gets in the wind."

"Because of his undercover experience?"

Seeley nodded, "Looking for someone with his level of experience would be like searching for a needle in a haystack if he slipped out; which is why I'm being careful to get everything lined up just right before we arrest him. We won't get a second chance on this one."

They pulled into a space behind a DC police cruiser. Seeley got out, spoke with the man briefly, and climbed back in the car as the cruiser drove off.

"Which apartment's Fuller's?" she asked, squinting into the glare of the setting sun.

"The brick one on the left two blocks down," he pointed, handing her the binoculars from the back seat. "He's on the third floor."

She adjusted the lenses until a man matching the physiological build of the agent she'd met several days before stood framed by one of the windows. It appeared he was eating his own dinner.

"So, what is our objective?" she asked, lowering the binoculars. "And where is the other officer you mentioned?"

"Make sure he doesn't leave before Caroline can get the warrant and follow him if he does," Seeley replied. "The other cop is sitting right across the street in that silver Accord."

She nodded, satisfied that the car looked more innocuous than their SUV. Silence descended as they took turns keeping watch through the binoculars. Seeley insisted that between watches they engage in recreational reading or something of the sort that would allow them to relax. As the sun set there was still no word from Caroline, so they continued their vigil.

"So," he said casually as he took his turn watching, "you doing okay after this morning?"

She looked up from her book and nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. "Yes, though I'm still dissatisfied with my performance."

"So, the admin part of the job was a little bit harder than you thought," he said with a smile. "That doesn't make you a bad person, you know."

"Yes," she nodded, "I do know. I suppose I just thought that my leadership skills were more advanced than that."

"Bones, you're a world-class scientist, a best-selling author, and you have kids willing to sell their kidneys on E-bay just to be one of your grad students," he pointed out. "Add all of that up and it doesn't equal someone with poor leadership skills. Not to mention, you're different."

"Different?" the word sounded distasteful to her ears.

"Yeah," he nodded, dropping the binoculars to look her in the eye. "You're not a follower, but you're definitely not a traditional leader, either. You're a trailblazer."

"A trailblazer?" she wasn't sure she liked that moniker any better.

"Think of all of the new methods of forensic science that you and the squints have forged," he urged. "Half of the procedures that are on the books now came out of _your_ lab, because _you_ weren't satisfied until you figured out how to extract every last bit of truth from our victims. And yes," he held up a hand as she moved to comment, "I know that Hodgins, and Cam, and your squinterns play their roles too, but at the end of the day, Bones, _you_ are the example they follow and I guarantee that lab wouldn't be the same without you."

He went back to his surveillance of the building, allowing her to process his claims. She was still processing them when he turned the equipment over to her and leaned back in his seat to relax. Stillness settled over the SUV as she watched Fuller's movements intently, looking for any signs that he had been tipped off to their presence.

"Hey, Bones, can you get me the flashlight from-" he broke the silence and then cut himself off. "You know what? Never mind, I'll get it."

She felt a hand reach in front of where she sat, opening the glove box and fumbling around inside of it.

"Got it!" he cried triumphantly, then let out a startled cry. "Bones! What the hell is this?"

Noting that Fuller was still sitting in front of his television she lowered the night-vision binoculars and readjusted her eyes to the dark cabin.

"It's a tampon," she stated the obvious.

"Yeah. Got that," his tone was clipped and he had dropped the sanitary napkin as if it were on fire. "What in the name of all that is holy is it doing in _my _glove compartment?"

"Perhaps because we use _your_ vehicle 90% percent of the time," she shot back, "and I like to have them on hand should _my_ feminine needs arise."

"Your-" he was spluttering and waving his arms around in a very frustrated manner, making it difficult for her to school her features. "Don't you have a bag for that sort of thing?"

"Yes," she rolled her eyes, "however I have found that my bag is not always with me when we go back and forth to crime scenes so I needed a more convenient place to store them."

Far from appeasing him, her answer compelled him to shine the pocket flashlight that he had finally located inside the glove compartment.

"Tissues, lipstick," he muttered darkly. "Do I even _want_ to know what the glove box in the old SUV looked like before it got blown to Kingdom Come?"

"The tissues aren't mine, they came with the rest of your government-issued supplies," she tried to remain calm while keeping an eye on Fuller's apartment as well. "Also, that tube is not lipstick, it's chapstick, something that's very necessary with all of the outdoor work that we perform. As for the old SUV, it held the same supplies you see here."

His phone rang, curtailing any response.

"Booth," he snapped, then backtracked once he realized who was on the other end. "Sorry, Caroline." There was a pause and Temperance could hear the vociferous lawyer on the other end. "Great. We'll bring him in." Some more talking. "Yup, I figure he can cool his heels in the brig overnight and we'll go at him first thing in the morning."

Caroline made a few parting comments, then hung up.

"The lab matched Fuller's DNA to the skin cells on the gun?" she said expectantly when he hung up.

"99.99%," he looked satisfied. "Let's get this perv."

"If it would make you more comfortable I could seek alternative storage methods," she offered as they moved down the street toward Fuller's apartment.

"Huh?"

"For my sanitary napkins," she elucidated, "since it appears you are unsettled by the current arrangement."

"What say we table this one 'til we get back home?" he suggested, flashing his badge at the apartment's startled doorman and jogging into the building.

They moved swiftly across the lobby and into the elevator to the third floor. Fortunately, the hall was empty when they emerged.

"Okay, we're gonna play this casual," he instructed in a low voice. "As far as he's concerned, I'm just a co-worker popping in for an unexpected visit."

"What about me?" she whispered back.

"You're my wife who came along for the ride."

"Why would I come along?" she wondered.

"Because-," he stopped short. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Just hang back and try to act casual."

"If I was acting casually, I would be standing beside you," she pointed out. "Standing behind you may imply we're hiding something."

"Temperance…" his tone indicated that she was being far too analytical about the situation and he would most likely prefer it if she stopped talking and deferred to his original instructions.

"Fine," she conceded for the time being.

Signaling her to stay behind him, he approached the door and knocked on it.


	61. Identity

**I thought I had posted this Wed but I guess not.**

**- Gum**

* * *

Chapter 61: Identity

Booth could feel every nerve in his body stand on end, his senses heightening as the footfalls drew loser. The deadbolt liked, followed by the knob turning, and after what seemed like an eternity, the door opened.

"Where's Caleb Fuller?" Bones was the first to recover from the stunned silence at the strange man who answered the door.

"Bones, let me do the talking" he hissed back at his wife, then realized as he turned back to the man that she'd asked the same thing he would have. "Who are you and where's Fuller?"

The guy looked back and forth between the two partners before making a quick retreat into the apartment.

"Wrong answer," Booth muttered, stepping into the doorway before it closed and muscling his way in.

"Hey, man, ease up," the complaint came as Booth grabbed the fleeing man and forced him up against the nearest wall.

"Hey, _man_," Booth mocked, tightening his grip just a tad, "little tip: FBI asks you a question, you don't take off."

"FBI?" the man squeaked, tensing under Booth's hold.

"Yeah," Booth held on with one hand and reached for his badge with the other, flashing it quickly. "Got anything to share with the class now, or do I haul you in for obstruction of justice?"

"Look, all I know is that some dude paid me a couple hundred bucks to hang around here and wait for his buddy to come by," the man shrugged.

"This 'dude' have a name?" Booth sat the guy down forcefully on the couch and crossed his arms.

"And you still haven't given us yours," Bones pointed out.

"I'm Frank Mead," he answered quickly. "I never asked what the other guy's name was and he never offered."

"What about this buddy of his?" the agent pressed, hoping for something useful out of this whole mess.

"The envelope's on the table," Mead jerked his head toward the other room.

"Wanna grab that for me, Bones?"

In his periphery, he watched her pick up the envelope and stiffen.

"Booth," her voice was a shaky whisper.

"What?" he looked back and forth between her and Mead, dying to know what was upsetting her.

"No," she was back in control of her emotions. "I mean, it's addressed to you."

Sure enough, as she brought it lose he could see his name emblazoned on the front.

"You open it," he told her since she was the one with gloves on and he had Mead to keep an eye on.

Standing beside him so that they both could see, and angling her body to block Mead's view, she slowly teased the envelope open. A single newspaper clipping was enclosed and the sight made Booth's blood run cold.

It was dated to nearly a year ago and pictured three smiling girls. "Winner Crowned at Elementary Science Fair" the caption announced. Two of the faces had been crossed out and the remaining on circled, along with the girl's name under the photo: Madeline Lane.

* * *

**And because I forgot to post you'll get the next chap sooner. Probably today. Again, sorry about that.**

**-Gum :)**


	62. Out of the Mouths of Babes

Chapter 62: Out of the Mouths of Babes

Caleb Fuller kept to the tree line, biding his time. He watched as Booth's SUV drove away, no doubt heading for his apartment. Dr. Brennan was in the car with Booth, which meant they'd left the kids with her dad. Rumors about Max Keenan abounded at the Bureau but Fuller was fairly confident he could handle one old man.

An hour later his patience paid off as the youngest Booth girl came outside to collect the toys scatter about the front yard. He saw his chance and advanced casually.

"Hello," he waved, walking up the driveway and smiling brightly. "You're Sadie, right?"

The little girl looked up but said nothing.

"It's okay," he assured her, reaching for his badge, "I work with you Daddy."

***

The contents of the envelope had only intensified her husband's interrogation of Frank Mead. It soon became very clear, however, that the man whose body structure was eerily close to Fuller's knew nothing about the other man's intentions or current location. This made Seeley even more upset and in the end he sent Mead along to the FBI holding center with the other officer who had been watching the building with them. He wasn't sure if the obstruction of justice charge would stick, but he assured her he was going to press for it.

"What makes you think it'll work this time?" she asked as they climbed in the SUV and Seeley dialed their home phone for at least the tenth time since finding the envelope.

"Come on, Max," he was muttering to no avail.

In the stillness of the cab she heard the operator once again informing him that the call could not be completed as dialed, followed by several choice words that she rarely heard him use; his phone skittering across the dash board. Blue and red lights bathed her as the engine roared to life and they took off into the darkness toward home.

***

Fuller must've said something wrong, because after a timid comment about the weather little Sadie had excused herself and hightailed it back inside before he could make a move. Then again, maybe she was just shy. Either way it didn't matter. The phone lines had been cut and the cell phone jammer activated, so there would be no calls for help.

For the umpteenth time he swore at himself, wishing that everything would have gone right the first time. If they had just both shown up at the alley…

He shook off the thought, refocusing himself. What had happened was in the past and this time it would be up to him to make sure there was no second failure. Staring intently at the house he contemplated his next move.

***

"Grandpa," Sadie rushed into the dining room, tugging his sleeve frantically.

"Hey, baby girl, calm down," he set down his cards and pulled her into his lap. "What's wrong?"

"There's a man outside who says he knows Daddy but he didn't know the password, so I came in," the words tumbled out of her.

"Password?" it didn't surprise him that his son-in-law would set something like that up, but this was the first he'd heard of it.

"Oh yeah," Joey piped up, the card game forgotten, "if any grown up outside of the family says they know Mommy or Daddy, we're supposed to ask them how the weather looks."

"And the password's 'cloudy with a chance of meatballs,'" Maddie added. "If they don't know it, we're supposed to tell Mom and Dad."

"I locked the door," Sadie told Max, "and I told you 'cause Mommy's not here."

"You did the right thing, sweetheart," Max assured her, remaining calm. "Did the man tell you his name?"

Sadie shook her head and the ex con-man considered what that meant. Casually he set Sadie down and they moved to the living room. Without making himself overtly visible, he peered out the window, spotting the man skulking around the tree line almost instantly.

The morning after the alley setup, Max had covertly gathered intel on Booth's two suspect agents. The CIA man was shorter than the man outside and Max would be willing to bet that meant it was Fuller he now had to deal with. It also didn't escape him that Fuller's apartment was where his daughter was currently supposed to be on her stakeout.

Retreating with the kids further into the house, he knew he would once again have to trust Tempe's safety to Booth.

"Grandpa," Maddie's voice reminded him that Booth was trusting Max with his daughters and son too. "The phone's not working."

"He cut the line," Max explained. "Knocks out the security system too."

Three pairs of eyes widened in fear.

"We'll be fine," he smiled to calm them. "Your Grandpa Max still has a few tricks up his sleeve."

"Do you have a cell phone?" Joey asked hopefully.

"Nope, Big Brother would like that too much. But," he hastened to add at the kids' confused looks, "we don't need one and besides that, this guy probably has a cell jammer going too."

"That's what Dr. Sweets said he had in the alley," Maddie commented, then clapped a hand to her mouth when she realized she'd said too much.

"Is he the same bad man who shot at Daddy and Uncle Jack?" Sadie asked.

"Probably," Joey nodded gravely. "We need to let him know."

If the situation had been any different, Max would've been amused by just how aware of what was going on the kids were.

"But if Mommy and Daddy are out staking the bad man's house and the bad man is here, than who's at his house?" Sadie wondered out loud.

"Maybe nobody," Joey shrugged.

"Is the bad man going to shoot our house?" Sadie questioned Max soberly.

"Hey, don't you worry about that, kiddo," Max picked her up and held her tight. "With all the hair products your dad stocks, we'll be able to deal with him if he gets too close."

"I don't think he wants to hurt us at all," Maddie said thoughtfully. "I mean, if he did he would've grabbed Sadie, right?"

Max couldn't argue the logic and nodded.

"That means this isn't an assault," she concluded. "It's a siege."


	63. Leverage

Chapter 63: Leverage

Max hated the fact that Maddie was right almost as much as he hated that there was nothing he could do about it.

"I want Daddy," Sadie pouted, burying her golden curls in Max's chest.

"He's okay," Maddie soothed her little sister, "but right now we don't want him to come home."

"How come?" Sadie sniffed.

"You know what a lever is, right?" the older girl asked patiently.

Joey and Sadie bobbed their heads.

"A lever's a simple machine that helps you lift heavy things," Joey volunteered.

"Right, well, when a person has _lever_age on someone else it means they know or have something that will make getting what they want easier," she continued. "That's what this guy has on Mom and Dad if they come home now. _We're_ the leverage."

"We are?" Sadie asked.

"Yup," Maddie was sure of herself. "Dad would do anything for us."

"We need our own leverage," Joey declared.

"I don't wanna be a lever," Sadie shook her head and clung to Max again.

"What's good leverage for us to get on him?" Maddie put the question to Max. "What can break up a siege?"

He should've realized, he thought wryly, that any kids his daughter raised would tackle a crisis with logic. Even Sadie had perked back up at the mention of doing something to help.

"The best thing would be to talk to your folks before they get here, but if we can't do that," he thought quickly of some safe things the kids could do, "we'll need a list of our available resources. See if we can find something to tip the scales."

Over the next hour they went from room to room compiling an exhaustive list of what they had on-hand.

"Now what?" Joey asked, sprawling out on the couch, yawning.

Max was sorely tempted to tell him it was time for bed. The sun had slipped beneath the horizon, darkness following in its wake since they had begun. He knew, though, that none of them would be able to sleep until this was over.

"How about we check in on the Flyers' game for your dad?" he suggested.

"Okay," Joey agreed, heading for the basement.

"Me too," Sadie chased after him.

Max was just about to join them when Maddie gasped.

"I know how to call Mom!"

***

Booth almost missed the low buzz because of the siren.

"Bones," he got her attention, "your phone's going off."

"Brennan," she said quickly, fishing the phone out of her bag in the back. "Maddie!"

She fumbled around with the buttons until she got it on speakerphone.

"-calling you guys every fifteen minutes for over an hour," a very whole and healthy sounding Maddie told them.

"My phone was in the SUV," Bones explained quickly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll go get Grandpa," she answered.

"Why's the audio so funky?" Booth asked, as silence blanketed the line.

"She's calling from Skype," Bones said, "the internet-based phone service we used while she was at school."

"I wonder-"

"Hey, Tempe," Max came on the line, "about time you answered your phone.

"It was in the SUV-"

"Look, Max," Booth cut her off, "our guy gave us the slip and we're pretty sure he's headed for you."

"Yeah," the staticky voice crackled, "that's what we've been trying to call you about. Regular phone lines have been cut."

"You've spotted him," it wasn't a question and Booth had to force himself not to go any faster than he already was.

"Not too long after you left," Max confirmed. "He was sticking to the tree line, but now-"

The cell phone dropped the call.

"Can you get him back? Booth pressed.

She shook her head, "I can't make any calls."

"Another jammer," Booth concluded grimly. "Doesn't matter, we're almost home."

As he pulled onto their street he killed the siren and flashing lights, radioed for backup, and landed the SUV about a hundred yards out from the driveway.

"You staying here?" he asked, shutting the engine off.

She shot him a look that said he should have known better. He did, but it didn't stop him from hoping that one of these days she'd choose to play it safe.

"Okay," he nodded as they climbed out, "stay behind me."

"Gun goes first," she smirked.

"Yeah and keep your eyes peeled."

"I've never understood that phrase," she whispered as they began their approach.

"Shocker," he grinned back.

As they stole their way up the street Booth kept his eye on the tree line. There wasn't any movement that he could see, but that didn't mean much. He felt Bones' light touch on his shoulder a second before her voice sounded in his ear.

"There's a light on in the house and I saw someone pass in front of the window; most likely my father."

"Yeah," he kept his voice low, "this is a classic siege scenario, but the problem is, Fuller knows the playbook."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, "You mean he may be able to anticipate our moves because he is familiar with FBI protocols involving siege scenarios?"

"Exactly," he flashed a quick smile. "Fortunately fu us, I know how to improvise."

"What do I do?" she asked a little too eagerly for his taste.

Before he could answer, though, the front door swung open.

"Hello?" Max Keenan called into the darkness. "Is anybody out there?"

"What's he doing?" Bones hissed.

Booth shrugged, wondering the same thing, but put a finger to his lips and kept a close eye on Max.

"Booth? Tempe?"

"We're right here, Dad," Bones moved out from behind him and into the lighted part of the yard.

Praying that there wasn't something funny going on while shaking his head at his wife, Booth had no choice but to follow her.

"It's all clear," his father-in-law assured him before turning to Bones, "and _you_ should've waited for me to say that first before revealing yourself."

Bones looked slightly chagrined and Booth hid a smirk and instead asked, "Where's Fuller? I thought you said-"

He pulled up short when he noticed the man in question had been secured to a nearby tree with duct tape.

"He seemed to want to keep an eye on the place so I let him," Max smiled wryly.

"Good thinking," Booth nodded, glad that the perv hadn't gotten anywhere near his kids.

A pounding noise interrupted his thoughts and he looked up at the house to see Sadie waving furiously through the window.

"Go ahead," Max tilted his head toward Fuller, "I'll keep an eye on him for you."

Bones needed no further assurance and walked into the house, but Booth hung back.

"Thanks," he told the former con-man, "for keeping my girl safe."

He slipped the bag with the newspaper clipping of Maddie inside, watching Max's face darken.

"Nothing you haven't done for me," Max spoke purposefully, looking at the spot where Bones had just been standing before meeting Booth's eyes.

The two men shared a nod that only fathers with daughters could and Booth turned to follow his wife.

* * *

**Further explanations are forthcoming. For now, though, I'm off to have some b-day fun with the family!**

**Gum :)**

**Oh, look, you're so close to the review button, that would make a great b-day present ;) **


	64. How the Tables Turned

Chapter 64: How the Tables Turned

The wind whistled through the trees, sending a chill through the man waiting among them. Fuller suppressed a shudder, redoubling his focus on the house, and ignored the cold the crept in as the sun sank below the horizon. It had been fully dark for some time when his radio buzzed; his contact at the Bureau letting him know that a warrant for his arrest had been issued.

In his mind's eye he could see Booth and his tagalong squint wife knocking casually at his apartment door as if they were just dropping by for a chat. Frank would greet them, play dumb, and eventually cough up the envelope. All of the research Fuller had done on the man suggested that upon seeing the envelope's contents, Booth would drop everything and run home.

And when he did, Fuller would be here and would get what he needed.

The sound of an object hurtling through the air toward him caught his attention and he ducked just as something splattered on the tree behind him. There was no time to determine what it was as several more were already incoming.

"Ah!" he cried out softly as the liquid inside the projectiles splashed up off the ground and into his eyes, burning.

The barrage stopped, but it didn't matter because he could barely keep his eyes open. Without warning his side exploded in pain as it was struck with something solid that was traveling fast. Another one hit him in his lower back and as he fell to the ground he heard footsteps coming toward him.

A net that was probably meant to be more decorative than practical was thrown at him, wrapping effectively around his feet so that even if he'd been able to see he would've had trouble standing. Max Keenan materialized in the darkness and quickly bound his hand with rope, adding a pair of plastic handcuffs on top of that.

"Compliments of the kids," Keenan smirked, hauling Fuller to his feet.

The man said nothing more as he frisked Fuller and frog-marched his captive toward the house. The stopped beside a tree well-inside the front yard and with a clean line-of-sight into the living room window he'd been peering at through his binoculars all night. There was no time to formulate an escape as his feet were swiftly bound with the same piece of rope that bound his hands. Keenan then shoved him none too gently against the tree; securing him to it with a roll of duct tape. A piece was also ripped off the roll and slapped over his mouth.

"Enjoy the view," Keenan told him, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

Fuller, through sore and blinking watched the older man turn and go back into the house; seemingly satisfied that his quarry would not be escaping anytime soon.

***

A cacophony of gleeful squeals barraged Temperance as she walked through the front door, and before she could properly brace herself all three children were clinging to her. Relief flooded her as she enveloped them with her arms, the pinpricks of moisture in her eyes revealing a depth of love that surprised and warmed her at the same time.

Sadie all but climbed up her torso and into her arms, settling her head in Temperance's chest, while Maddie and Joey clung to each side.

"I missed you, Mommy," Sadie sighed

"And I you," the emotional reply was affirmed with a tight hug and a kiss to Sadie's forehead.

The little girl returned the hug ferociously, but released her just as quickly when the front door opened to reveal Seeley.

"Daddy, Daddy," Sadie's words tumbled out, "there was a bad man who talked to me when I went outside but he didn't know the password so I ran in and then we found levers and we stopped him from making us levers."

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow at his wife, who shrugged.

"Lever_age_," Maddie spoke up, "he wanted to use us as leverage against you guys."

"We got him, though," Joey crowed proudly, beaming up at Seeley for approval.

"How'd you manage that, Bub?" Seeley smiled, herding everyone into the living room and onto the couch.

"Well, first we made a big list of all the stuff we had," Joey explained, settling almost immediately on his mother's lap when she sat down. "Then we got everything ready. Me 'n' Grandpa made some water balloons for the launcher with special ingredients and got potatoes for my potato gun too."

"I gave him my handcuffs!" Sadie said proudly. "And I cheered for the Flyers and they won, Daddy!"

"Good job, Sadie-girl," Seeley smiled at her, bumping the fist that was offered.

"Grandpa did the rest," Maddie told them. "Didn't take him very long either."

"It was a very clever idea to use the internet to call us when you realized the phone lines had been cut," Temperance complimented. "Wasn't that yours?"

"Yeah," the girl shrugged off the praise, "should've thought of it sooner, though."

"It wasn't your fault I left my phone on vibrate in the SUV," the scientist reassured her. "You are only liable for the things within your power to affect and you all handled yourselves exceptionally tonight."

Red and blue lights bathed the living room and Seeley stood to go out and meet the backup unit as they arrived. Temperance and the three children gathered at the window and watched as Fuller was freed from the tree, along with his rope restraints. It was Seeley who read him his rights and secured him with regular handcuffs before turning him over to the backup team.

"Where's Daddy going?" Sadie whined, pressing her face against the glass.

"We parked down the street, so most likely he's gone to retrieve the SUV," Temperance explained calmly. "Though it's altogether possible he may still need to go in tonight."

All four of them jumped as the front door opened suddenly.

"Well, that was all kinds of fun," Temperance relaxed at the sight of her father. "Mind if I crash here tonight, Tempe?"

She shook her head, "Of course not."

"Thanks," he looked at the kids. "Don't worry, guys, your dad's just going to get his car. He'll be back in no time."

Mollified, Sadie nodded, but continued her vigil at the window, watching the FBI forensic team as they gathered evidence from the perimeter where Fuller had initially been hiding. From her pocket, Temperance's cell phone vibrated with a text message informing her that they had located the jamming device.

Almost as soon as Seeley returned, Temperance announced that it was long past time for the children to be in bed. The two younger ones bid their mother and grandfather goodnight and right away Sadie climbed into her daddy's arms, while Joey took his free hand, and allowed him to take them upstairs with no complaint.

"Wait," Temperance laid a hand on Maddie's arm as she moved to follow them. When the room was clear, she faced her daughter, "Are you alright?"

The girl's shoulders bobbed up and down, her eyes refusing to make contact. Several more questions sprung to mind but in the end they were dismissed in favor of tactile contact. Maddie didn't respond to the hug immediately, but eventually she did, releasing all of the emotions that had been building all evening long. Temperance stroked her hair, uttering soft, soothing words over her.

"Thanks," came the soft voice as they disengaged. She hurriedly brushed away the tears from the corners of her eyes, "Sorry for crying all over you."

"It's never a weakness to accept a hug from someone who loves you," she smiled kindly. "Your father taught me that."

Maddie returned the smile and hugged her one last time before going up the stairs after her siblings.

"You did good, honey," Max said, re-entering the room from the kitchen.

"Did I?" she questioned, eyes fixating on a spot outside of the window. "Maddie and Joey have been here less than a week and already they've been held captive in their own home. I fail to see the 'good' in that."

"If it hadn't have been them, it would've at least been Sadie and believe me it was a lot easier to keep her calm with the older two around." He patted the couch beside him and waited for her to sit before continuing, "You know, choices in life are never easy, but at some point you have to make them and live with the consequences; whether good or bad."

"Is that how you justify your past decisions?" she challenged him, slightly on edge from the evening's events.

"I don't justify anything, Tempe," her father blew out a long breath. "I know my decisions haven't always been the greatest and that you kids have paid the price for my mistakes; don't think I'm ignorant of that. But when you get old like me you start to realize that you have to unhook the past or it'll drown you. That doesn't make things all better, but it does help you move forward and restore what you can."

The two of them looked at one another for a long moment, acknowledging the deeper, unspoken, meaning in his words.

Without preamble, he dropped a chaste kiss to the top of her forehead and offered her a sad smile. "You're a good woman and an amazing mother."


	65. The Way the Cookie Crumbles

**I apologize for the wait. My story muse has all but dried up during this hiatus and it seems like I've been beating my head again the wall of this chapter for a long time. I am about halfway through the next chapter, though, so hopefully it won't take as long to finish this time. **

**Gum**

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Chapter 65: The Way the Cookie Crumbles

Booth was close enough to catch the last part of Max and Bones' exchange and smart enough to let them sort things out on their own. Just the fact that she allowed herself a hint of vulnerability around her dad spoke to how far she had come. Hearing Max own up to his part of things so unflinchingly was progress too.

When Max excused himself for the night Booth waited a beat, headed in, and chucked a thumb in the direction of the stairs to let her know the kids were waiting for her. He scanned the room quickly for any messes that needed immediate attention as she left, found none, and so set off in search of food.

Bones reappeared not too long afterwards in sweatpants and one of his old FBI shirts. He took a minute to appreciate the beauty of his name centered over her breast before patting the empty stool beside him and standing up to grab the now-boiling water for her tea. She sipped cautiously at it and smiled her thanks as she relaxed into the seat.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

The corners of his mouth rose slowly to a smirk, "Nice shirt. Stealing my boxers again too?"

"Not tonight," she shook her head, then with a gleam in her eye, "though perhaps when we next go to Mass."

He rolled his eyes and they shared a smile, enjoying the moment of calm.

"Will you need to go back in tonight?" she asked, snatching an Oreo from the plate in-between them and dunking it in his milk.

Tearing his eyes away from her lips so that he could form a coherent thought he shook his head, "There's nothing that can't wait until we've all had a decent night's sleep. Max gave his statement and it's pretty much an open and shut deal to sort out."

There was a knock at the door and Bones was up in a flash. Sighing, Booth shoved the rest of his cookie in his mouth and jogged after her. If Marcus Grier was at all surprised to see Bones dressed so casually- and in FBI wear at that- he hid it well. After quickly swallowing his Oreo down, Booth signed the paperwork Grier handed him, gave it back with his thanks, and said goodnight.

"Time for bed, Bones," he announced as the last of the taillights disappeared down the road.

For a minute it looked like she was going to fight him, but in the end she merely yawned and nodded sleepily. A moment later his arm shot out to catch her as she stumbled on the first step and he slid it around her waist, holding her close.

It wasn't until he felt how tight her back muscles were that he remembered how tough the first part of her day had been too. As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them, he began easing her shirt above her head.

"Seeley," she protested gently, "as much as I-"

"Shh," he hushed her with a soft kiss before turning her around and giving himself access to her bare back. "Trust me, 'kay?"

She nodded as his hands began working her shoulders, kneading her skin and letting the natural heat from his hands help loosen the muscles. Sinew by sinew he pushed and pressed them into submission, releasing the tension from each joint along the way. When she became too relaxed to stand them moved to the bed.

"Don't stop," the words were slightly slurred with a hint of pouting as she lay on her stomach. "Lumbar..."

"You leave your lumbar to me," he smirked, stripping down to his boxers and straddling her lightly.

Keeping his own body in check, he started in on her back, which was every bit as tight as her shoulders had been. A few times he thought he might be pressing too hard but she urged him on in monosyllabic grunts so he kept at it. Finally the last of the tension yielded to his touch and he fell into bed beside her, covering them both with the heavy comforter.

The next thing he knew, Bones was stirring in his arms as early morning sunlight filtered through the blinds.

"That," she yawned, rolling over to face him, "was the best sleep I've had in quite some time."

"You're welcome," he smiled, then frowned as she freed herself from his arms. "Where are you going?"

"Don't you _trust_ me?" she teased.

He shivered involuntarily as she flung off the warm covers, dropping them to the floor.

"Com' on, Bones, it's freezing out!"

A shirt flew through the air and he snagged it, throwing it on quickly. Before he realized what was happening, she had donned his FBI shirt again and was situated at the end of the bed, gripping his right foot. Peeling just the one sock off, she began expertly massaging his foot.

"Your cuboid has sublaxed again," she observed.

"Hate it when that happens," he groaned slightly as she manipulated a tender joint.

"The calcaneocuboid joint and ligament are strained," she went on, "no doubt a lingering side effect from the beatings your feet sustained."

"Thank you Dr. Scholls," he deadpanned. "Knew I should've beaten them with that hose instead the other way around."

"I would counsel that course of action in the future," the edges of her lips quirked, eyes twinkling.

It felt good to be able to joke about the past without it dredging up the bad memories, and they shared a knowing smile. Meanwhile, her fingers were working their magic on his feet like they always did and he sighed contentedly into his pillow.

"Seeley," he opened one eye at the change in tone, "I've been thinking-"

"Do you ever _not_ think?" he interrupted.

"No," she frowned, slipping his left sock off and kneading the flesh underneath, "basic brain functions and thought processes are necessary to sustain life."

"You think, therefore you are," he quipped. "Continue."

She slapped him lightly and had just started speaking again when the door burst open and Sadie demanded that they tell Joey to hurry up in the bathroom because she had to go. Bones told her that it would be rude to do so, and said she could either wait or use one of the other bathrooms. The little girl scampered quickly into their in-suite bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Bones finished working on his foot just as Sadie re-emerged and once she'd left they reluctantly got up and dressed for the day. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted up as they headed toward the kitchen, so Booth wasn't at all surprised to find Max hard at work at the stove. It tasted as good as it smelled and he joked with Max that he could stay on as head cook for them every day.

The full breakfast put them slightly behind, but eventually everyone was fed, dressed, and out the door for work and school. Joey was thrilled to get Booth all to himself on the drive to the public school, while Bones drove the girls. Joey seemed a little nervous about going to his classroom alone, but when they pulled up and found Parker waiting for them just beyond the drop-off point he bounded out of the car excitedly and ran to meet him.

Charlie called when Booth was on his way to the Hoover to confirm that Fuller would be brought to interrogation at nine. He thanked the other agent and as soon as he was parked, sent Bones a quick text letting her know the time. He rolled his eyes when a familiar ring tone sounded from the glove box and dialed again.

"Missing something, Bones?" he asked without preamble when she answered her office phone.

"Your ironic tone suggests I am," she pointed out.

"Have you checked your texts yet today?" he teased, pulling back out into traffic.

"No. Why?"

"Well, I sent you one."

"Then why are you calling?" she sounded confused.

"Because right after I sent it the glove box started ringing," he grinned.

"Oh," realization dawned, "I must've left it there when we went to confront Fuller."

"Yup," he nodded, "which is why I'm on my way to you as we speak."

He stayed on the line, bantering back and forth with her as he pulled up to the front of the lab. By the time he got out of the car she was already trotting down the steps toward him, so instead of moving toward her, he merely stayed where he was, leaning against the car casually.

"Where's my phone?" she asked, holding out her hand expectantly.

"Right where you left it," he tossed a thumb toward the passenger's side.

"Why?"

"Uh uh," he shook his head. "After what I pulled out the last time I went digging around in there no way I'm doing it again!"

"For a fully-developed male you can be quite juvenile," she rolled her eyes, brushing past him to get the phone herself.

"Fuller'll be waiting for us at nine," he said smugly as she opened the phone.

"So I see," she deadpanned. "And I suppose you'll want me to go with you now?"

"It's the _logical_ thing to do since we're both going the same place," he winked and threw her a charm smile.

"The _logical_ thing to do," she countered even as they turned to go back inside, "would've been for you to stay at your office and simply inform me of the interrogation time via my office phone or e-mail. If you're going to insist on taking me, though, you'll have to wait another half hour. I have work that need to be done since Cam will not be returning until tomorrow."

By the time she'd finished her small rant they were passing through security and moving toward the lab.

"Fine," he shrugged, keeping in step with her. "Want me to babysit Hodgins for you?"

She gave him a long look, then nodded with a small smirk, "That would be helpful, thank you. And perhaps you could threaten to shoot him with your gun should he feel the need to double my paperwork again."

"No sweat," he smiled back, snatching up her hand quickly and pecking it.

The corners of her mouth twitched upward and instead of pulling away as he'd expected, she laced her fingers in his, only letting go just before they went through the sliding doors. With a small wave he watched her move toward her office while he headed over to Hodgins' workstation.

The two men passed the next half hour talking about how bad the Nats looked already and what potential the Phillies had this season. Just before he went to collect Bones, though, he gave the bug man a soft but serious warning not to catch the lab on fire again- at least not until Cam got back.

Bones hemmed and hawed as he shooed her out of her office until he threatened to let her stay. They made it to the Hoover with plenty of time to spare. After letting Fuller stew in the interrogation room for a few minutes the pair headed in.

He was sitting there, casually sipping at his glass of water and waved smugly at them as they entered. Bones stood stock still for a moment, then grabbed Booth's arm and hauled him back out into the hallway.

"Booth," her voice was shocked, but sure. "Fuller is not the killer."

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**Reviews always help to revive a dry muse.**


	66. Understanding

**So here, after long last, is the next chapter. My muse took a hit during the hiatus and then another after 100 hit the air. It's good to be back though, and I have every intention of updating this more regularly now.**

**Gum :)**

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Chapter 66: Understanding

She watched his jaw slacken and his gaze intensify.

"You wanna run that by me again?" disbelief colored his tone.

"He's not the serial killer-"

"Bones," he cut her off with an impatient wave, "he staked out our house last night armed to the teeth, not to mention _your_ squints were the ones to tie him to the alley ambush. So forgive me if I'm a little confused here."

"While those are factual assertions," she nodded patiently, "they do not prove that he is the killer and I can assure you he is not because he is left-handed." Her partner looked even more confused so she continued, "Every single set of remains I've examined on this case points to a _right_-handed individual. Fuller clearly favors his left hand; even during our first interview with him."

"What if he's ambidextrous?" he asked, not quite convinced. "Or maybe he's just faking it because he knows what evidence we've got? Remember, he does have a leak in the Bureau. He may have access to the active case file for all we know."

"I'm not certain as far as that aspect's concerned," she shrugged, thankful for the relative privacy of the observation room.

On the other side of the mirror she watched Fuller show increased signs of agitation as he was forced to wait on them.

"There!" she pointed at the security camera angle that gave them a closer view of his hands splayed on the table. "There is a callus on the distal portion of the middle phalanx from years of gripping a writing implement with his left hand."

She grabbed Booth's right hand an pointed out the similar callus.

"Okay," he nodded, absorbing the information, "so we're back to square one."

"Not necessarily," she shook her head, remembering a crucial detail. "It's logical that even if Fuller himself is not the murderer, he is acquainted with him; so much so that he is willing to place his career in jeopardy to protect the actual murderer."

"You've got someone in mind?" he asked rhetorically.

"Frank Mead," she obliged him with a blunt response, knowing she'd then have to further explain herself. "He's right-handed, matches the physical descriptors of the killer, and given his facial structure is likely a close relative of Fuller's."

Without taking his eyes off of her, Booth called down to the holding cells, demanding Mead's current location. After a tense moment, he relaxed slightly, ordering Mead to be kept in his cell under heavy guard. He next call was to Caroline, then Cullen.

"What tipped you off to Mead?" he asked after closing his phone. "Besides the right-handed thing? I mean, lots of people are right-handed."

"I remembered that he-" she swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "His pupils dilated with obvious pleasure when you showed him the clipping of Maddie's picture."

A vein in his jaw pulsed as he clenched it tightly and his nod was curt.

"What's _she_ doing here?" her attention was diverted as Perotta appeared on the interrogation room's monitors.

"Cullen's orders," Booth explained. "If we don't have him for murder, then all we've got is what went down in the alley and at our house. Perotta needs to take the lead because we're-"

"Too close," she finished the thought, nodding.

As one they turned their focus to Fuller and Perotta. He obviously couldn't, and didn't, deny his involvement in the ambush and the events at the Booths' house; in fact, he seemed rather proud of himself. The cockiness faltered and collapsed completely, however, when Perotta mentioned Frank Mead.

"Got him," Seeley crowed beside her, clutching his poker chip as Fuller's face turned ashen and he began stammering for a lawyer.

Perotta took one last dig, then buzzed for the waiting guards to take him back into custody.

"Good work," Booth complimented the blonde agent as they joined her outside of the interrogation room.

"You two gave me the key," she replied. "You saw how quickly he folded once he knew we knew his hand."

"It caught him off-guard," Booth agreed.

"That's only logical," Temperance chimed in. "He's been harboring this secret for quite some time. Most likely since the Trish Reynolds investigation six years ago. I doubt he expected to be found out after so many years had passed."

Seeley's phone rang and he excused himself. She and Perotta stood in awkward silence until the other agent said she needed to be going and left.

There was a mixed sense of sadness and satisfaction for the anthropologist as she considered Fuller's condition. Satisfaction because he would soon be safe behind bars, but sadness for her husband because she knew how personally he took the betrayal of one of his own.

Seeley was still on the phone when she entered the observation room to join him. His brow was furrowed, shoulders tight, but he acknowledged her with his eyes and nodded when she indicated that she would adjourn to his office to wait for him.

"We found the mole," he announce several minutes later, collapsing into his chair with a heavy sigh.

"Was it Mitchell?" she asked, setting her BlackBerry aside to focus on him.

"No," he shook he head. "Her name's Brenda Mednoy and she _was_ a mid-level dispatcher. They had a thing going but so far it looks like she thought she was helping out with Fuller's undercover missions by shuttling information to him on the sly."

"How much trouble is she in?"

"Enough," he blew out a long breath. "She probably won't see jail time, though, if she gets a decent lawyer."

"What's our next task?" she wanted to know.

"I vote we go for lunch and decide what angle we're gonna take with Mead. Fuller would've been easier to question, honestly, because we've got tons of background on him. I've got my guys compiling a file for us on Mead, but in the meantime we need to go back to the evidence and see if we can link him to any of the crime scenes. Caroline's got a warrant for his DNA, so that should be sent over to the lab soon.

"I want as much on him as we can get before we question him. Fortunately for us, he obstructed an FBI investigation yesterday, so holding onto him for as long as we need won't be a problem."

The plan was a sound one, and they left for the diner right away. Both were lost in their thoughts as they awaited their food. This entire case had been a difficult one from the beginning and it felt like every time they thought they had a hypothesis as to what had happened, a new facet would emerge and disprove them and the hypothesis would have to be amended.

"Do you remember when Sadie was little and we used to pick her up from daycare and take her to lunch with us?" his voice interrupted her train of thought.

She smiled at the memory and nodded.

"Those were good times," he said wistfully.

"Are we not in the midst of good times now?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

"What do you thing?" He replied cautiously, taking a long sip from his coffee and sitting back as the waitress brought their food.

"I think that, objectively, there is very little difference between that time period in our lives and this." She paused for his reaction, continuing on at his brief nod, "Around the time when we used to bring Sadie to the diner with us for lunch, we were also in the midst of adjusting not only to her presence in our world, but also our own marriage, much the same as we are adjusting to the expansion of our family right now."

"Good point," he nibbled at a fry and gave her a small smile.

They talked idly until the food was finished, then paid the bill and left. Instead of walking back toward where they'd parked, however, Seeley proffered his elbow and began walking up the street in the opposite direction when she linked arms with him. All around them the city pulsed with people hurrying about from one destination to the next, but Seeley's steps were even and measured and the further they walked the more relaxed she became.

Eventually, they found themselves walking along the length of the Vietnam Memorial wall.

"Did I ever tell you my dad lost his kid brother in 'Nam?" he asked in a low voice.

She shook her head.

"Everybody always said that was when Dad started hitting the bottle hard," he went on, his fingers tracing the name of his long-dead uncle as he spoke. "I hated him for years for that, you know? Thought he should've been stronger or something."

She reached her free hand across and laid it sympathetically on his forearm.

His eyes remained focused on the stone as he continued, "It wasn't until Jared and I were both deployed that I finally got it: when I knew how I'd feel if anything happened to him. The first time Jar and I were back on US soil together after that we came here. To remember and be thankful. I haven't been mad at my dad since then, either."

As he finished he turned, framing her face gently with his hands and for a long moment, he was silent.

"When Hairston had you, Bones," he started again, softly, but in earnest, "I was so angry at him first for taking you from me; then for playing us. He made me think that I'd lost you and then he put you held you prisoner and started threatening you." A long sigh escaped him, "But when I found out _why_ he'd done it I couldn't be angry with him anymore."

"Because you would have been equally disturbed had the same thing happened to Maddie or Sadie," she nodded understandingly.

His head bobbed up and down, smiling sadly at her as if thankful that she understood.

"Don't get me wrong, Bones, I want to do this for Lily, but I also want to do it for her dad and all of the other dads who lost their little girls to this bastard. They deserve that much at least."

She accepted the quick kiss he dropped on her lips, then smiled wryly up at him and repeated her words from so long ago, "I'd like to help you with that."

They turned from the wall and walked away arm in arm.


	67. Hard Day's Night

Chapter: 67: Hard Day's Night

The rest of the day passed in a blur after he dropped Bones off at the Jeffersonian and headed back to the Hoover. Cullen called him into his office as soon as Booth was back and the two devised a strategy for informing the Deputy Director what had gone down now that they knew he hadn't had anything to do with the ambush.

From there, Booth moved from one debriefing to the next, all the while keeping tabs on the bullpen agents he'd assigned to filling in the gaps in Mead's background. He was more than relieved when Bones called to let him know that Max had volunteered to pick the kids up from school and take them back to the Jeffersonian to work on their science fair projects.

Hours later he was poking his way through a mound of paperwork when she called again; this time to see if he would be picking them up anytime soon, as she wasn't sure she could fit all three kids and all of their stuff into her smaller car. It was then he realized that six o'clock had come and gone and his stomach was informing him that it had been awhile since the diner.

With a wide sweep of his arms he gathered up all of his paperwork and files, told Bones he was on his way, and headed for the parking garage. Rush hour traffic hadn't thinned yet, but thanks to the side roads and judicious use of his flashing lights he was able to pull into the Jeffersonian lot just before seven. They were all outside waiting for him.

"I'm riding with Daddy!" Sadie declared, flying into his arms as soon as she caught sight of him.

"No, I am," Joey argued, hot on her heels.

"No fair, he took you to school two times," she pouted.

"It's the boys' car," Joey crowed. "No girls allowed."

"Nuh uh," Sadie's curls whipped back and forth violently. "Me 'n' Mommy go in it all the time when you're not here!"

"Well I'm here now and I'm gonna go with Dad," Joey was adamant.

"Actually," Booth said, setting Sadie down gently, "I'm the one who gets final say-"

"Oh! Pick me, Daddy," Sadie interrupted, bouncing up and down.

"No, Me!" Joey exclaimed.

"-and I choose Maddie," he continued, as if he hadn't heard them. He caught Bones' eye and winked before turning to their oldest girl. "You coming?"

For a minute, it looked like she was going to turn him down, but then she smiled shyly at him and nodded. That settled with only a few more grumbles by the overruled parties, they headed for Bones, who was sitting on the steps with the kids' backpacks, watching everything unfold.

"You too, huh?" he asked, pointing to her overflowing bag as he offered a hand to help her up.

"Fortunately, Cam will be back to oversee her administrative duties tomorrow," she sighed as she stood, falling into him for a quick hug before shouldering her bag.

"Good," he smiled sympathetically. "Here, I'll take all of the bags and toss them in the SUV so you have more room in your car for both car seats."

Looking too tired to argue, she handed over the bags- including her own- without any hesitation. He leaned in, kissing her gently on the forehead, and they went their separate ways.

"You know," Booth commented to Maddie as they waited for traffic to slow down and let them out of the parking lot, "you are a very special person." He held his face in check as she shot him a side-long look before he continued, "I'm serious, kiddo. That seat you're in? I don't let just anyone sit there."

"Why not?" she asked so softly he almost missed it.

"They stopped for a red light and he turned to smile at her, "That's your mom's seat. I had to chase her down to get her to stay in it at first, but it's been reserved for her ever since.

"Oh, you might laugh," he teased as her shoulders shook, "but you ask anyone and they'll back me up. I even make Jared sit in the back- and not just when your mom's with us either."

The soft chuckle became a laugh, and then she became thoughtful, "What do you mean you had to 'chase' Mom in here?"

Relaxing as he wove through traffic and out of the city, he told her about the fight he and Bones had gotten into during their first case and how he'd managed to pick her up at the airport to work Cleo Ellers' case. He told Maddie about the bickering that had ended with him chasing Bones up a city block before she would agree to work with him again.

She had questions and he answered her, and just as he'd hoped, the conversation coaxed Maddie from her usual reserve. They talked a little about her old school- the good and the bad- and a lot about her new one. He learned that she was enjoying pre-Algebra and Earth Science, but was struggling to catch up to where the rest of her Government class was.

Bones called as they were pulling in the driveway to let him know they were stopping for pizza, so he and Maddie took advantage of the quiet house and sat down in the living room with her Government book and the assignment she was having trouble with. He explained the structure of the government as best he could, even correcting the book a few times and adding his own perspective on things from a Federal law-enforcement standpoint.

By the time everyone else piled through the door, Maddie was well on her way through her homework and seemed a lot more confident about the subject. He told her to let him know if she needed help in the future as he'd really enjoyed helping her; not to mention getting her to open up to him.

The pizza was consumed in record time, followed by helping Joey through his homework, and getting all three in and out of the bathtub. It was nine by the time all of them nodded off in their beds and quiet descended on the house once more.

Once the cleanup from dinner was taken care of, Bones proposed a shower and he had to admit that the hot water did wonders for his aching frame; melting the day's worth of tension away little by little. The quickie she gave him when she joined him took care of the rest and he returned the favor.

Refreshed and satisfied, the gathered up their work and spread out at the dining room table. Not for the first time he thought it would be nice to have a study and a real desk to sit at, complete with a comfortable chair. When he voiced this to Bones, she reminded him that the paperwork that they were required to fill out jointly couldn't be completed as efficiently at two workstations as it could be at one larger one. A part of him knew she was right, but that didn't stop him from wishing for a seat with better back support.

Before long they were deeply engrossed in their work. Her stack wasn't quite as high as his, but it was more technical by nature and, consequently, more time-consuming.

"How much more do you have left?" he yawed, putting the final signature on his last report.

She finished whatever she was working on and eyed the remainder of her stack critically, "Approximately an hour. If you're done, though, this pile here is ready for you to sign off on."

"Joy," he groaned, glaring at the offending work. "Anything that can be put off?"

"Not if we don't want to upset Caroline," she shook her head. "Or risk her claiming you as her secretary again."

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good," he shook his head. "I'm gonna grab something to eat first," he pushed himself up and stretched. "You want anything?"

She set her pen down and yawned, "Some ibuprofen and a glass of water?"

"Coming right up," he smiled.

"Hey, do you wanna move this party downstairs?" he asked when he came back. "We could put our feet up but still have room to spread everything out."

"That sounds wonderful at this juncture," she agreed, getting to her feet and gathering up her work faster than he'd expected.

She was right about it being another hour before they'd finished, but at least this time they were comfortable and his back was no longer stiff.

"Come here," he invited, moving the files aside and pulling her into his lap.

"We need to go over the files on Mead," she protested weakly as she sunk into his embrace and closed her eyes.

"Shh," he silenced her with a soft kiss. "No more work talk. We'll tackle the Mead file in the morning."


	68. Revved Up

Chapter 68: Revved Up

The sole place where Temperance Joy Booth felt utterly at peace and content was in her husband's arms. Even now, she could feel her body relaxing into the breadth of his chest as his warm hands unconsciously rubbed circles into her back.

"How are _you_ doing?" he asked quietly.

It was a coded exchange they'd devised in the early days of their marriage, borne from Seeley's pet peeve that when that particular question was asked, neither person was usually invested in the response. Thus they had promised that if either asked how the other was doing, they would answer honestly and listed earnestly. This was not always pleasant, but it worked well for them by and large.

"Tired," she admitted, "but very relieved that Cam will be returning to the lab tomorrow. I'm slightly concerned about Sadie, though. Tonight at the lab wasn't the first time that attitude of entitlement has been a problem."

"She's jealous, Bones," he said easily. "She's used to being the only kid at the house all the time and now she has to share us."

"But she seemed very lonely when they were here," Temperance pointed out. "And it's not as if we ignore her."

"Nope, it'll work itself out, don't worry," he soothed. "We're all figuring out our new roles just like we did those first few summers."

"How's Maddie?" she shifted the conversation. "I noticed the two of you seemed to be getting along quite well when we came in."

"She's great," he smiled. "I helped her out with some of the homework she's been struggling with and we talked. Seems like there are more kids here who she gets along with and aside from the craziness of jumping in toward the end of the school year, she's really enjoying herself."

"Good," she sighed, thankful for one less problem and happy for Maddie.

They talked for a little while longer before finally going up to bed. Seeley tried to argue for sleeping on the couch, but both knew it would be bad for his back.

The next morning, Temperance dropped the three children off at their respective schools, then returned home to work with Seeley on the case.

"Thanks, Charlie," he was on the phone when she entered. "Tell the boys 'good work' and lunch is on me today. I'll call in pizza for noon. Think you can meet the delivery guy?" There was a pause, "Great. Bones and I'll be in by one. I wanna see what the Squint Squad has to offer."

The two men exchanged goodbyes and hung up.

"Good news?" she asked, picking her way through the mess of files to join him on the couch.

"Yep," he grinned. "My guys did their homework and hit pay dirt. Turns out good ol' Frank's real last name is Fuller."

"Are they brothers?"

"Cousins," he smiled, "but get this: their dads were identical twins; which is probably why they look so much alike. Not to mention their moms are sisters too- not twins, though."

"They share two common bloodlines," she nodded. "That would easily account for the resemblance."

"Yup, they share all the same aunts, grandparents, everything. Kind of a weird family tree if you think about it. Anyway," he pointed at the open laptop screen displaying all of the new information, "Sweets was right about him being middle management. He's a department supervisor at Howard University Hospital over on Georgia Avenue. Oversees the pharmacy."

"That would give him access and sufficient knowledge to concoct the drug mixture Cam identified."

"Yeah, that was my thought too, but it's gonna take some digging to see if we can trace the drugs back there," he ran a hand through his hair. "This guy covered his tracks well, and if it hadn't been for his cousin, we might never have caught onto him."

"He owned a 1993 Jetta," she blurted out, the fact jumping out at her from the screen. "Hodgins will want to know that to match the oil sample he found."

"I called Cam while you were gone and gave her Frank's real ID and released the file to their server. We're supposed to be over at the lab by ten. I figure you can take a couple hours there for the case and whatever else you need to catch up on, then we can grab lunch and head over to the Hoover by one. If you need the extra time I can grab you a sandwich or something."

She smiled at his thoughtfulness and that he was already making plans for the next meal as they began cleaning up and organizing the floor full of files. Forty-five minutes later, they were on their way with plenty of time to make Cam's meeting.

As they drove, a debate began over the obvious transportation crisis they were facing with the addition of Joey and Maddie to the household. Over the summers, they had augmented their work schedules accordingly, but with them working normal hours _and_ with the added trouble of having to go to two different schools, they needed a larger vehicle than her sports car.

"You can just drop me off at the dealership on Sixth on the way home tonight and I'll pick something up," she said finally, wearying of Booth's inference that she could not select a suitable car for them on her own.

"Pick up?" he shot her an incredulous look. "It's not like this is dry-cleaning, Bones."

"I know that," she waved him off as they pulled into the Jeffersonian parking garage and began gathering their things. "However, I fail to see the problem you have with me going to buy a car."

"Look, just let me go with you," he sighed, keeping in step with her no matter how she quickened her pace, "make sure you don't get ripped off."

"I've purchased new cars before, Seeley, and conducted successful negotiations for goods in Iran, Tibet-"

"Okay, great, you could be a poster woman for the Peace Corps, but this is a car we're talking about." He tapped his chest as they passed through security, "I know cars, Bones. I know what to look for."

She switched to tactic to simply ignoring him, but he was persistent.

"And another thing," he said as the both squeezed through her office's doorway, "I don't see why we need to look just at new cars. Do you know how much the Blue Booth value drops as soon as you drive it off the lot?"

Frustrated with his stubborn insistence on viewing her as ignorant and helpless in so simple a task, she threw down her bag and turned on him.

"Do you know how much money my advance check was for on this book?" she challenged him. "Or how little it matters to me what the Blue Book value is or whether I get two weeks or two decades out of a car? This upcoming book tour alone could buy an entire fleet of cars; including the classic kind that run, rather than sit in a garage for years!"

The tic of his jaw should have told her he was hurt by her words, but restraining himself. She was upset as well, though, so she went on.

"Perhaps you would prefer that I stay at home instead and act like a good housewife. Then you would have ample cause to go to some used car dealership and 'rawr' at the saleswoman with the perky breasts and get your 'good deal.'"

"Are you finished?" his voice was quiet, but controlled and he waited for her to nod before continuing. "Good, because it's time for Cam's meeting."

Surprised, she consulted her watch and found that he was correct. Tucking away her frustration for the moment, she gave a curt nod and proceeded to pick up her files and leave the room. Seeley said nothing as they walked upstairs to where the others had gathered. They both managed to smile and be solicitous, and as the meeting progressed they were the model of professional behavior in the workplace.

They fielded questions from the team with ease, feeding off of one another's responses like they always did. For reasons she couldn't explain it frustrated her further that he was acting as if nothing had gone on between them.

"Dr. Saroyan," she spoke up as the meeting was dispersing, "I feel it only fair to inform you that my presence has been requested on several digs this summer following my book tour." she resisted the urge to look at her husband, but could sense that every eye in the area was now fixed on her. "I'm not certain whether or not I'll be accepting any of them, but I wanted to inform you all the same."

"Thank you," the pathologist said slowly. "I appreciate the courtesy."

Satisfied that she had conveyed the fact that despite Seeley's beliefs, there were still plenty of people who valued- and highly respected- her expertise, Temperance nodded and gathered her things to return to her office.

As if on some silent cue, everyone moved quickly away, leaving only she and Seeley upstairs.

"A dig?" he questioned, still masking any emotion.

"I have six email invitations and four traditional ones thus far," she answered honestly.

"Right," he looked carefully at her. "I think I'm gonna go back to the Hoover now."

"You don't have an opinion?" she challenged.

"I've never forced you to stay here, Bones, and I never will."


	69. Going Down

Chapter 69: Going Down

He knew from her tone and body language that she was trying to goad him, but that didn't make it feel any less like she had put him on life-support and then stomped on his air hose. To make matters worse, the squints were huddled down at the bottom of the steps waiting for him and seemed shocked that he'd descended with all body parts intact.

"What was that?" Angela was, of course, the first to speak up; though at least she kept her voice low so that it wouldn't carry up the stairs.

"Look, it's nothing, okay?" he tried to convince them all. "Just a little carryover from some home stuff, that's it."

It was just his luck, he supposed, that he was surrounded by people who questioned and probed things for a living. He knew none of the believed him and he was fairly sure they all wanted to interrogate him. The last thing he wanted or needed or felt like doing right now was airing his dirty laundry in public.

"Listen, I appreciate the support, but we'll sort this out ourselves." He leveled his gaze at the artist, "No pushing her. If she asks, fine. If not, let her be."

He didn't break eye contact until he got a nod from every one of them. Satisfied, he turned away and went to grab his stuff from Bones' office. By the time he reemerged, the squints had scattered and gone back to work, and Bones was on the platform, handing out orders to the squinterns.

Without saying anything to her, he walked through the lab's sliding doors, headed to the last stop he had to make before he could make his escape.

"I need a favor," he told Max without preamble.

"Name it."

"Bones might need a ride home tonight," he said carefully, praying Max would let things go at that.

"The kids covered?"

"Yup."

"Okay," the older man nodded. "Good luck."

Booth's shoulders slumped just a little bit more and he let out a long breath, "The squints told you?"

"Nah," Max shook his head. "I fought with her mother long enough to know that look."

"We'll sort it out," Booth repeated his line from the squint speech.

"I'll make sure she eats too," his father-in-law told him. "Go. And remember, she's not always right."

It was the first time this morning Booth felt like there was someone else who got what he was up against. Muttering his thanks quickly, he palmed his keys and got the hell outta Dodge.

B&B&B&B&B

When he arrived safely in his own office without being stopped by anyone he sifted through his paperwork and realized there wasn't nearly as much as he'd thought; leaving him with extra time on his hands. Time he couldn't help but spend replaying Bones' words over and over again in his head.

His joking words to Hodgins the other day about her waking up one day and realizing she didn't need him hit hard too. For as much as he knew that Bones shot her mouth off without thinking fairly often, this time she had aimed to wound- and she had succeeded. At this point he wasn't sure what hurt more: the words themselves or their intent.

The more he though about it, though, the more irritated and angry he became. Sure, he knew he wasn't anywhere near her league in the money or the smarts department, and yes, there were even times he'd admit to being over-protective of her; but this time he hadn't been. All he had wanted to do was help her pick a good, reliable car and make sure she didn't get ripped off in the process. Cars and people were two things he knew he could read better than she could, so he didn't get what she had gotten so upset in the first place; and he didn't appreciate his gesture being tossed out as if he were some useless hack.

The thought briefly crossed his mind to call her and see if she was ready to talk, but he was still stinging from her last attack, not to mention his own anger was close to the surface, so he decided that when she was ready, she could call him.

"Hey, Booth, did you call in those pizzas?" Charlie asked, popping his head in the office and breaking Booth's reverie.

Booth swore under his breath and promised the other man he'd get right on it. He did, ordering bread sticks, soda, chips, and a few dessert pizzas to boot. When it arrived, Booth met the guy himself and took it up to the break room. The guys seemed to expect him to join them so he did with only the slightest tinge of guilt for standing Bones up for lunch.

It had been ages since he'd eaten with the guys and he had to admit that it felt good to be around non-squints for once. They laughed, burped, exchanged dirty jokes, and talked about everything from the Nats to who had the best shooting scores down at the range, eventually ending with office scuttlebutt.

"Hey, Booth," Greg Patterson called out. "You taking over Cullen's spot when he leaves?"

"Nah," Booth waved off the idea.

"Why not?" another guy asked and the rest chorused him.

"You think I wanna be a desk jockey for the rest of my career?" he answered around his last bite of the dessert pizza. "No thanks! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna head down to Interrogation and put all your hard work to good use."

Only Charlie gave him a funny look while the rest hooted, and hollered, and cheered him on.

B&B&B&B&B&B

"Frank Fuller," Booth entered the room, walking confidently over to the table and sitting down across from the man.

"So you say," the man shrugged, relaxed.

"Oh no, it's not just me," the agent assured him. "I've got bank records, phone logs, DNA- the works- and you know what they tell me?"

"That I'm a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen who puts in his forty hours a week and still manages to check in with the folks every other weekend?" Fuller was calm and collected as he rattled off the facts Booth's file did indeed tell him.

Booth wasn't impressed.

"Yeah," he leaned back in his chair, relaxed. "Yeah it does tell me that, but you know what else it tells me?" He sat back up and flipped the open file around, pointing casually, "It tells me you work at a pharmacy and you owned a '93 Jetta up until last week."

"A job and a car," Fuller mocked him, "clear indicators that I'm a threat to society. Did you check the kid down the street too- because I heard he just got his license."

"You know what I hate about guys like you?" Booth fingered the poker chip in his pocket and tapped into some of his real anger.

"That I'm free to play the field while you're stuck with a scientist robot for a wife?"

Booth leaned forward, voice so low and controlled it commanded attention. "You think you're smart and that because you've gotten away with breaking the law for years, you're untouchable. So you keep doing it," he began laying out the pictures of the girls one by one in chronological order, keeping his eyes fixed on Fuller. "You take away their lives and destroy family, after family, after family.

"But you know what I love about guys like you?"

"The keen sense of comic timing?" Fuller quipped, his own control not slipping one bit.

"You all mess up," Booth didn't miss a beat. "Every last one of you, whether it takes two years or ten. And when you do, my brilliant scientist wife- who has more empathy for people in her pinky than you do in your whole body- can find it and take you down.

"And she can convince any jury in the world beyond a reasonable doubt that the DNA we found in-between Joelle's teeth matches yours, and the drugs in the cocktail you gave Lily and at least eight of the others came from drugs _you_ mixed in _your _pharmacy, and the scrap of plaid shirt recovered from a crime scene matches the hole in one of the shirts we found in your closet and it had the same oil stains that came from the same car that you conveniently ditched after hauling the last body in it. Dead bodies leak blood, you know and my people leave no corner unsearched.

"You see, Frank Fuller, I'm going to enjoy watching you go down."

Booth was ready and waiting when Fuller came undone and launched himself across the table at him. With practiced ease, he grabbed Fuller's incoming left arm, spinning him around and jamming it just a tad harder than necessary up his back.

"Are your girls safe, Agent Booth?" the man leered at him, unknowingly uttering the question that had launched the investigation in the first place.

Booth didn't even bother to justify Fuller with a response, but cuffed him and hit the switch on the wall for security to take him away.

It took a full hour at the shooting range before he finally felt like the tension that had built up was released. He showered, dressed in his spare jeans and FBI t-shirt since his suit was soaked in sweat, and went to go pick up his girls.


	70. Flip Side of the Coin

Chapter 70: Flip Side of the Coin

After remaining upstairs for several minutes to avoid any awkward questions from Angela, Temperance descended and was pleasantly surprised to find everyone hard at work. A quick glance told her that Seeley had gone to her office to retrieve his paperwork, so she made her way instead toward the group of interns hovering around the forensic platform.

The museum had sent a set of remains down for immediate authentication, providing a perfect opportunity for some hands-on instruction. She didn't miss Seeley's watchful eye and it took every bit of her self-control not to react when he left without saying a word. Quickly, she put the argument out of her mind for the time being and focused on the task in front of her.

Once she was satisfied that the interns knew what they were doing she left them to their assignments and returned to her office. It seemed odd that Angela had not yet come to question her about the fight, but soon she was far too busy to worry. Jaina called to finalize details concerning several press junkets she would need to attend as well as the upcoming book tour stops.

Fortunately, she and Seeley had already decided that they would travel as a family to the stops on the West Coast- because he insisted all children should experience Disney Land- and only she would travel along the East Coast when Seeley had to return to work. By the time she finished with Jaina and had cleared her in-box she was stunned to find that it was after twelve-thirty and she had not heard anything from Seeley concerning lunch.

Where she had not been surprised that he went back to the Hoover to give them both some time and space, that he would not even check to make sure she had eaten made her wonder just how upset with her he was.

After vacillating over the decision, concern that something may have happened to him won out over her pride and she called his cell phone. That concern rose a few degrees when the call went directly to voicemail. No one picked up on his office line either, prompting her to grab her jacket and walk to the Hoover as quickly as possible.

She arrived somewhat out of breath a few minutes later to a bullpen that looked like it was recovering from a party. The worst of her panic abated as this indicated that Seeley had at least managed to order pizzas for his men as he'd promised.

"Hey, Dr. Brennan!"

"Hi, Charlie," she congratulated herself on remember the other agent's name. "Do you know where Booth is?"

"He's, uh, down in Interrogation," Charlie said cautiously, as if gauging her response.

"Oh," was all she could manage and then, "Thank you."

"Sure thing," he nodded, tossing a stack of empty plates and pizza boxes into the nearby trash can.

Unsure of exactly what to make of the situation, she excused herself and walked slowly toward the row of interrogation rooms. At first she had purposed to simply walk in on them unannounced, but stopped short as she approached. There was no doubt in her mind that Frank Fuller was the ruthless serial killer they had been searching for and no doubt Seeley was, as he liked to say, "working him over" and could be close to gaining a confession. Her respect for Seeley as an FBI agent, as well as their responsibility to the victims prevented her from jeopardizing their case no matter how hurt she felt at being left out of this stage of the investigation.

The security guards waved to her and she smiled as she walked past the closed door and up to the observation room. To her relief, Sweets was not there and the room was dark save for the pale light cast from light below. Pulling up a chair, she sat down and flipped a switch, bringing the audio flooding into the small room.

As she had suspected, the interrogation was well underway, and right now, Booth was laying out pictures of the victims across the table in an effort to elicit an emotional response. To her eye, however, Fuller appeared to be quite composed as he exchanged remarks with Booth. A change came over the agent's countenance, causing both she and Fuller to unconsciously sit up straighter in their seats.

"...And when you do," Booth leveled a finger first at Fuller, then at the file containing the case notes, "my brilliant scientist wife- who has more empathy for people in her pinky than you do in your whole body- can find it and take you down."

He continued on, but she was barely paying attention. True, there was an element of drama in what he was staging right now- there always was when it came to interrogations- but close to a decade of working in close proximity to Booth informed her of the pride and absolute faith he had in her abilities.

She focused on Fuller and how his face morphed from calm and composed to increasingly agitated as her husband continued to list the ways in which she would prove he was the killer. She also noted Seeley's body readying itself like a coiled spring so that when Fuller attempted to attack him, his defense was smooth and almost effortless.

"Are your girls safe, Agent Booth?" the snarled question sent chills down her spine as she remembered the way Fuller had leered at Maddie's picture back in his cousin's apartment.

This time it was Seeley whose composure didn't break as he said nothing, but handcuffed Fuller and called for security. Only when the men had removed Fuller from the room and closed the door did Seeley sag against the wall, releasing a long breath as he ran his right palm along the back of his neck.

A part of her yearned to go to him and comfort him, knowing as he began reverently collecting the pictures that he was mourning their loss as if they were his girls. Seeley had always been empathetic before Sadie and Maddie came into their lives, but it was deeper now, that much was evident. She thought about the insults she had hurled at him so carelessly- knowingly wounding him- and felt remorse rather than pride at one-upping him.

Years before, Angela had tried to teach her about men and their pride and apparently she hadn't learned much since. The light went off in the room below, cloaking her in darkness and still she sat, preferring not to reveal herself. Several minutes passed and finally, she decided to leave.

His office was dark when she walked through the bullpen and she wondered if he had gone to the shooting range and unleashed his remaining frustrations. Her phone rang, calling her back to her responsibilities at the lab and the rest of her workday was spent moving from one set of tasks to the next, without the opportunity to really talk with anyone.

"Knock, knock," her father strode through her office door at precisely five o'clock.

"Are you my ride home?" she guessed, knowing that Seeley would not have completely stranded her at work. Max nodded just a fraction. "And I presume you were the one who left the sandwich on my desk as well?"

"Guilty as charged," he smiled, helping her into her coat.

"The snickerdoodles gave it away," she admitted, shouldering her bag and shutting off the remaining lights. "Do you have a lecture prepared for me on the ride home?"

"Sweetheart," her father sighed, linking their arms together as they walked out to his car, "whether I like it or not, you're an adult now, so whatever's going on between you and Booth isn't my place to nose in on."

"And yet you stepped in to make sure I was provided for in his absence," she pointed out calmly.

"I figure I owe you both that much," he shrugged.

There were questions she had for him concerning marriage and the give and take that was required between spouses, and how she should go about trying to set things right between she and Booth but by the time she felt comfortable enough to ask, they were pulling into her driveway.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked him instead.

"Nope," he shook his head and grinned. "Tonight's all-you-can-eat rib night at one of my favorite joints in town. Ask me again, sometime, though, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, then added, "Thanks, Dad."

"Any time," he nodded with a sparkle in his eyes. "Give those kids of yours a hug from me."

Promising that she would, she collected her things and left, standing in the driveway long enough to watch his taillights disappear around the bend. She'd barely started up the walkway when Sadie burst out of the house, arms open wide as she ran forward. Temperance abandoned her bag quickly and dropped to her knees, taking the full impact of the little girl with a small grunt, but enveloping her in her arms nonetheless.

Tales from an apparently long day at preschool and an account of what had already been accomplished that evening followed at an extremely rapid pace and it was the best she could do to nod as if she'd understood everything Sadie was referring to. Sadie was extremely reluctant to let go and Temperance was in an indulgent mood so she picked up both bag and girl and carried them up the rest of the walkway and through the front door.

The house was warm compared to the chilly Spring night and the air was filled with the scent of garlic bread, and lasagna, and freshly popped popcorn; not to mention the smell of burning wood from the fireplace. Joey was right inside the door waiting for her and gallantly offered to take her bag for her. It was on her tongue to refuse because of its weight but he was so sincere she relented, hiding a smile as he half-carried, half-dragged the bag to the couch.

Sadie was still clinging to her like a barnacle and she was only able to persuade her to let go by promising to read the next chapter in her book to her. This freedom lasted only as long as it took to hang her coat up in the closet and shed her shoes before Sadie was clamoring for her attention again. Temperance reassured her that they would read momentarily, then asked if she knew where Maddie was.

The little girl informed her with a slight pout on her face that Maddie was "with Daddy" and that they were doing homework of some sort together in the dining room. Unsure as to whether or not her intrusion would welcomed, but reminded by her growling stomach that it had been long enough since she'd eaten, she walked tentatively into the dining room toward the kitchen.

"Hi, Mom!" Maddie greeted her brightly, looking up from her open textbooks.

She returned the greeting, her eyes straining to remain fixed on Maddie rather than discover whether she would be welcomed home by her husband or not. He didn't offer anything positive or negative initially, and she excused herself to the kitchen before he had the opportunity to do so.

Warmth blossomed in her chest at the sight of the small pan of meatless lasagna sitting untouched in the refrigerator for her, along with a portion of buttered, but uncooked, garlic bread. While the lasagna and bread warmed in the toaster oven, she set about making herself a small salad.

The quiet didn't last long as Sadie caught up with her, informing her that she had played an instrumental part in buttering the bread and making sure that Joey didn't eat Temperance's piece.

"Bath time, Kiddo!" Seeley announced from the kitchen doorway.

"But me and Mommy didn't read our chapter yet," Sadie frowned.

"I did promise her that we could read," Temperance said quietly, addressing Seeley for the first time since she had challenged him at the lab about her leaving for a dig.

"Okay," he nodded before addressing Sadie again. "Why don't we let Mom eat while you take your bath?"

"With bubbles?" she negotiated.

"Yes, but," he tapped the little girl's nose and ruffled her curls, "you let _me_ or Maddie pour them in for you."

"I'm a big girl," Sadie insisted.

"That's the deal, take it or leave it," he shook his head.

"Fine," she agreed reluctantly, then bellowed for her sister before running out of the room.

There was an awkward moment when the two adults realized they were alone, both unsure of exactly what should be said.

"I-" they both spoke at exactly the same time and in the intervening pause were interrupted by the beeping timer, announcing that her food was done.

"Go ahead and eat, Temperance," he spoke softly. "I'll go make sure the bathroom isn't overrun with bubbles."

Hearing her given name surprised her and before she had a chance to determine whether its use was a good indicator or a bad one, he was gone, leaving her alone yet again.


	71. When the Wind Blows

Chapter 71: When the Wind Blows

She'd come home, which was the first good sign and the second was that she hadn't quite met his eyes yet. Humility didn't come naturally to her so when it showed up, he took notice. Still, the tension in the room could've been cut with a knife so he left her to her dinner while he tackled bath time.

He could hear two sets of giggles from the bathroom and sighed in relief that the girls were getting along. Sadie had been just fine this afternoon until she'd discovered that Mommy wasn't waiting for her at home. After being told that she couldn't go to the lab and be with Bones things had gotten even worse, degenerating into a full-fledged meltdown.

When that failed to get her anywhere, she switched to seeing how quickly she could annoy Maddie and Joey. It hadn't taken long and in the end he'd ordered her to stay by his side at all times, finding little things for her to do that would keep her occupied and out of trouble.

She'd been more than eager to help get the frozen lasagna out and help him butter the bread. He'd had no clue when or if Bones would be coming back, though admittedly he'd started dinner early so that they wouldn't have to share an awkward meal. Fortunately, Sadie had been more than happy to help once she figured out she was making Mommy's part of the meal.

As soon as dinner was over, the little girl had planted herself on the couch by the front window to wait for Bones to return.

"I'm done," Joey announced, breaking through Booth's thoughts as he came out of the master bathroom without a stitch of clothing on.

"Uh, Pal, you forgot something," Booth tried and failed not to laugh.

"Clothes are itchy," the seven year old reasoned.

Booth had opened his mouth to respond when another pale blur came dashing out; this time from the kid's bathroom in the hall.

"Mommy, I'm coming!" Sadie was yelling as Booth clothes-lined her before she could get to the stairs.

"You," he addressed her, "need to not yell in the house and both of you," he looked between Joey and Sadie, "need to accept that this house isn't a nudist colony and clothes aren't optional."

The bathroom door opened once more and he was afraid to look up given his track record.

"Come on, Sadie," Maddie's gentle voice sounded. "We'll find your dolphin PJs so that we match, okay?"

That seemed to mollify the little girl and Booth smiled his thanks to Maddie before turning to his last holdout.

"Come on, little man, let's go see if we can find something that doesn't itch so much."

By the time he'd found clothes for Joey, and toweled down both bathrooms, and spent far too long doing jobs that shouldn't have taken long at all, he had effectively used enough time so that it was 8:30 and he still hadn't had to talk to Bones. He continued shoving the guilt aside and focusing on the pain as they managed to both tuck the kids in without being in the same room at the same time.

Back downstairs, there were plenty more menial tasks awaiting him and he dove right in. He'd just started on the dishes and without saying a word, she stepped up and began to help him. Far from distracting, he found himself slipping back into a domestic dance they'd done hundreds of times and was comforted that even though a corner of their world had imploded for the time being, they were still a good team.

Of course, neither one of them broke the silence and the longer it went on, the more he was determined it would not be him. When the dishes were done and the kitchen restored back to its normal state, they stood still for a long moment, chafing under the mutual gaze until he broke off eye contact with her and turned to walk away.

He retreated into the garage, a part of him relieved to have space between them once again and the other part hurt that she didn't do anything to come after him. Stripping off his shirt and exchanging it for one of the grease-stained wife-beaters he kept on hand, he buried himself under the hood of his sports car.

It was Pops who had gotten him his first beater car when he was sixteen and taught him how to fix it. The older man knew that there wasn't a lot of extra money around the Booth house with his dad drinking it away and had promised that if young Seeley did the labor, Pops would pony up for the tools and parts he'd need.

The mechanics of it had come naturally to him from the start. He enjoyed working with his hands, but also like the puzzle-solving aspects of it too, not to mention it was the perfect escape when his old man was in one of his moods. The finished product had been something to brag about to his guy friends and impress the girls with.

The first car he'd restored, he'd driven until it died beyond his ability and budget to repair. After that, he'd had to settle for used cars that needed him just to stay running. In the Army he hadn't needed his own wheels and the FBI had given him a company car too, so he'd been able to squirrel money away to get a classic beater and restore it fully.

That car had been his pride and joy, but he'd been forced to sell it when Parker was born and the expenses needed to help raise a kid piled up. Parker had been worth every red cent and for years whenever he'd get the itch to get his hands greasy he'd headed into one of his buddy's garages. The Christmas before last- their first in their own house- Bones had shyly asked if a project car would make a good present and once he'd assured her it would, she'd let him handle all the details and convinced him he could spend whatever he needed to get the right parts.

Between his family and Bureau responsibilities he hadn't gotten far; though he'd made a lot of progress when Bones had been kidnapped and he'd been trying to give himself something to do besides worry. Ironic that he was now using it to keep distance between them, he grimaced.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he rolled out from under the hood for a tool just out of reach to find Bones sitting a fair distance away, watching him. Usually he could count on his sniper senses to let him know when someone else was around, proving just how incredibly distracted he was tonight.

"How close is it to being done?" she asked cautiously, as if making sure the car was a safe topic.

"Well," he swiped at the sweat running down his nose and into his eyes, "if you mean running, not too far away. Body work's a whole 'nother thing."

"Will you do that as well?" her natural curiosity had been engaged, though she hadn't moved any closer to him.

"I can do most of it," he shrugged. "I've got a buddy who's got all of the special painting equipment when I'm ready for it. That's a long way off, though."

"How many cars have you restored before?"

"Two, but neither of them were anywhere near what this baby'll be," he chucked a thumb behind him.

"Oh," she sounded surprised.

"Come on over," he invited, waving an arm, "I'll show you what I've done."

She hesitated, and he could almost see her weighing the pros and cons in her head, so he gave her a smile that said he wasn't going to chew her out just now and another one when she started picking her way toward him.

Shoving aside all of the day's emotional crap, he began giving her a tour of everything he'd done so far and answering her questions as they came. He quickly found out that in order to boast about what all it would be able to do when he finished, he had to explain all of the terms to her and he also ended up having to give her a quick history lesson on GTOs and the appeal of the '69 model.

When he finished, she shook her head in amazement, "All of this is quite fascinating, though I doubt I'd be able to do what you're doing."

"Sure you could," he said, "you're a genius, Bones, you can do just about anything you put that big brain of yours to. If I can do it, how hard could it be?"

"Why do you always do that?" the bubble of harmony that they'd been slowly rebuilding, burst as she stepped back.

"Do what?" there was an edge to his voice and he threw up his arms. "What the hell have I done now?"

"You're always so-" she made a noise like she couldn't find the right word, "-so self-deprecating. Why?"

"Oh," he snorted, "that's rich. You're kidding me, right?"

"No," she shook her head, glaring at him, "I'm serious. I understand why you would downplay your intelligence from suspects in order to lull them into a false sense of superiority, but why do it with me?"

"Sweetheart," he wasn't sure whether to wring her neck or shake his head, "I hate to break it to you but you are the living, breathing definition of a superiority complex and, you know, it's kinda hard to compete with someone who's always right."

"I'm not always right," she argued, then snorted when he smirked. "You know what I mean and you know what I'm talking about. I also happen to know that you are extremely intelligent whether you admit it or not!"

"Really?" he leveled his gaze at her, challenging rather than accusing. "Is that _really_ what you think of me? Because if so you have a helluva way of showing it, Temperance." She was looking at him in stunned disbelief, so he expounded a little bit more, "Do you know how many times you've acted like I'm dumber than you, or implied that I'm dumber than you? And let's not even count the occasions when you've just come out and said that you're smarter than I am!"

He stopped himself short of really laying into her, more for his own blood pressure's sake than for hers. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights, but she was taking what he'd said in too.

"Look," he blew out a breath, "most times I'm okay with the fact that you can run mental circles around me; it's part of what makes our partnership work so well. And I don't care what the perps, or the guys, or even the squints think about that but you?" He closed the distance between them and looked right into her eyes, "I will _always_ care what you think about me. No guy wants to be seen as lacking in his wife's eyes. Do you get that?"

She swallowed and nodded, then spoke very softly, eyes barely meeting his, "I watched you today."

It threw him off-base and he frowned, "Well, yeah, I kinda figured that when I saw you sitting over there."

"No," she shook her head, "not tonight, this afternoon. When you were in the interrogation room. I was watching you."

"You were?" it was news to him.

"It was past our lunch appointment and when I called it went straight to voice mail and you weren't picking up on the office line either," she looked at him as if willing him to understand. "I knew that you were upset with me but I thought that it was highly unlikely you would refuse to speak if I called, so I began to worry that something had happened to you. I went over to your office to look for you and Charlie directed me to the interrogation room."

"Surprised you didn't come barging in," he said lightly, imagining how ticked she must've been to find out he'd left her out.

"The thought did cross my mind," she nodded, "but I reasoned that you were most likely well into the interview and that interrupting you could jeopardize whatever rapport you'd been building with the suspect."

"You were in the observation room," he understood finally. "I didn't see a light."

"I never turned it on," she admitted. "But I did turn on the audio feed and I watched."

He started to speak, but she held up a hand and continued, "I watched you lay out the pictures of the girls in an effort to bait him, and when that didn't work you simply switched tactics until you found one that did. When he finally snapped, you were already prepared to intercept him and never once did he catch you off-guard or goad you into shifting your focus off of your end goal."

She lifted her eyes to meet his, "It was a very convincing display of how truly intelligent you are."

Without another word or look she turned around and slipped out just as silently as she'd come, leaving him alone with his thoughts.


	72. The Cradle Will Rock

Chapter 72: The Cradle Will Rock

Closing the door behind her with a soft click she wondered if he would continue avoiding her as he'd done earlier in the night or if he'd come out and confront her. She'd initially gone to the garage with every intent of demanding an audience with him since she hadn't been able to talk with him all night. Much like what had happened at the Hoover earlier in the day, however, circumstances had persuaded her to take on the role of observer rather than participant.

Watching him work had been an impressive sight. She had always been impressed with his physique and the thin undershirt left little to the imagination as his biceps flexed and bulged. More than that, though, it became quite clear to her that this was an arena he was very comfortable and familiar with. When he offered to show her the car and began showing her how different parts worked and what he still had yet to fix, she had to admit that mechanics were a skill set she did not possess.

Knowing that things weren't fully resolved between them, yet unsure of what was expected of her next, she gathered up some of the work she'd taken home and went into the basement to finish it. She hadn't gotten very far when a stair creaked behind her and she turned to see Seeley descending them.

He walked around the couch and sat down beside her. "Hey."

"Hello," she spoke cautiously, setting her files down on the floor.

"So, uh," he fiddled with the hem of one of the couch's throw pillows, his eyes everywhere but on her. "We need to talk."

"Yes," she said. "Are we going to talk about why you avoided me all night?"

"No," he shook his head, then stopped. "I mean yeah, but- Okay, look, I have some things that I need to tell you but I don't want this to turn ugly. So, can we agree to tell each other the truth and hear each other out?"

Her head bobbed up and down in agreement.

"Thanks," he gave her a half smile. "Want a cookie?" he asked, holding one out to her.

She accepted, then frowned, "This one's partially eaten."

"I taste tested it," a rueful grin spread across his face. "So you'd know I wasn't poisoning you."

"How good of you," she responded drily, but began nibbling at the cookie anyway.

Booth looked pensive as he began talking, "Okay, first up is the car."

He stopped so she presumed she was supposed to comment, "I think you are doing a fine job restoring it, if that's what you're asking."

"Thanks, but, um, that's not the car I was talking about," he shook his head, then grew serious when she gave him a quizzical look. "You know, the car that you need? The one that started this whole mess to begin with?"

"Oh," she said quietly. "That one."

"Yeah," he was quiet momentarily as if gathering his thoughts. "Look, whether or not we sort all of the other stuff between us out right away, we still need to you some kind of SUV or van because your car right now just doesn't cut it."

She nodded, "We had determined that much this morning."

"Yeah," he sniffed, "and when I offered to help out and you blew me off. Then you turned around and got all huffy about things and all but accused me of planning on hitting on the saleswoman. Seriously, Temperance, do you think that little of me? Do you not trust me?"

"Hey," she sat up a little straighter in he seat, challenging him, "I thought you said you wanted to be civil about this?"

"I do and I am," his tone was firm, but he wasn't yelling. "Believe me, I'm still plenty pissed and this _is_ civil. Now, are you gonna answer my question or should I not even bother going further?"

He moved to get up and she put her arm out to stop him.

"No. Stay. I'm sorry," she watched his eyes search hers out and he settled back into the couch, looking at her expectantly. "And no, I don't think little of you at all. I said what I said because it felt like," it was her turn to pause and release a breath before continuing. "I don't like it when you treat me like a child, Seeley, or when you always act as if I need help doing things that I've done my entire adult life.

"It was wrong of me to insinuate that you would make sexual advances and I apologize for that, but just as you felt as if I were devaluing you, I felt as if you were devaluing me. As I said then, I've successfully negotiated car transactions in several different countries and in multiple languages. I will admit that I'm not as proficient as you are in ascertaining how well a car will run, but I do know what general things to look for and I have never once bought a bad car."

"I just wanted to help you," he insisted.

"No," she shook her head, "the tone of your voice implied that you wanted to do things _for_ not _with_ me. Had you merely offered to come along and give your input, I would have agreed."

"Okay, see, right there," he was defensive again. "That sounded like I'm just some, I don't know, reference guide that you can just pull out of your pocket whenever you want and I don't like that. Makes me feel like you don't need me."

"You are implying far too much," she insisted. "First, it's ridiculous of you to think that I don't trust you or value your input when I rely daily on you in our professional lives. Second, it is true that I don't necessarily _need _your advice; however, that's not the same as saying that I don't _want_ it- and I do want it."

"So why try and keep me away?"

"Because you have a tendency to take over in such situations, not to mention on a far more practical level, the presence of children is not conducive to negotiating a good price, so it would follow that one of us would need to remain home with them," she took another breath and waited for his response.

"Okay," he nodded, "but look, this is our _family_ car. I need to be involved in buying it if I'm ever going to feel good about you driving it and it has _nothing_ to do with you and everything to do with how the car is built. If it's not 100 percent solid, I don't want you guys riding in it. You're too important for that."

"Fine," she said after thinking for a moment. "We can ask either Angela or my father to watch the children while we _both_ go to a dealership as a _team_. Would that be acceptable to you?"

"Yeah," he said earnestly, "that sounds good. And maybe we won't jump to conclusions next time one of us asks to help?"

"Agreed," she nodded. "I apologize for doing so, as well as for the implication that your opinion was inferior."

A silence fell between them that was neither tense nor relaxed. They were nearer to each other than they had been since that morning, too, which she took as a good sign.

"You said there were issue_s, _plural," she broke the stalemate.

"Uh huh," he nodded slowly, then, "want another cookie?"

She accepted, but teased, "It's whole. How do I know you didn't poison this one?"

He snatched it back from her and took a bite and handed it back to her with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, but they shared their first smile.

"So, any guesses on this topic?" he asked without rancor.

"Money?" she guessed right away.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Money."


	73. Yours, Mine, and Ours

Chapter 73: Yours, Mine, and Ours

It was something that had always been a facet of their relationship, even back in the early days of their partnership. Her first book had clawed its way slowly but surely up the New York Times' Bestseller's List and every book after had gathered more and more momentum to where now even Amazon sold out pre-order copies long before it hit their virtual shelves.

Aside from the booth tours- which she kept very limited- there was the movie Penny Marshall had done a few years back, the official chatroom that Brennanites from all over the world flocked to, and the one-hour TV drama that was based not on the fictional Kathy Reichs but the real-life Temperance Brennan. She also maintained a select few merchandising rights for mugs, and t-shirts, and the like that were sold during book premieres that brought in a modest amount too.

After the first book did so well she'd had to hire an accountant and her publisher had started buying her things like cars to encourage her to keep writing. Sales had gone through the roof after all of the real-life drama surrounding _Red Tape, White Bones_ and shortly after that she'd asked Booth to help her screen people to find another publicist. From that effort, a small team of people- including a CPA- had been gathered to handle her dual income sources, the publicity and legal angles of her book deals, any liability issues that arose, personal security for her while promoting her book, all while keeping her private life, private.

For the most part, she didn't flaunt it. Sure, there had been a period where it seemed like she was changing cars almost as often as he did underwear, and she never lacked for nice clothes or exotic jewelry, but by and large she either saved her earnings or made only the most prudent of investments. She and Hodgins had also pooled their resources to fund scholarships for deserving, underprivileged grad students.

He hadn't realized how modest she was being, though, until she'd handed him a packet of papers detailing all of her financial holdings. Even more shocking, though, was that she'd had all of the legal paperwork drawn up to add his name to everything. Eventually, her money gurus had taken care of adding his government salary- minus what he gave Rebecca in child support- to the bank accounts; though it was a drop in the bucket compared to what she made.

"Why do you say 'money' in that tone of voice, Seeley?" she was asking him now, having guessed correctly what the second topic he wanted to cover was.

She wasn't asking to rile him further, he had to remind himself, studying her face and finding nothing but her usual curiosity.

"Because," he started, then decided to take a different track. "No, wait, I need to know something first. What was the point of your little tirade this morning? The part about the used cars versus new ones?"

"You were the one going on about the Blue Book value," she said defensively. "_I_ was trying to ignore you at that point but you pressed the issue."

"And instead of telling me to stop or walking away, you pushed back," he challenged her. "You basically told me that it didn't matter because you're rich. Why go there, Temperance?"

That got her thinking and when she answered, her voice was somewhat smaller than it had been all night, "I suppose I was frustrated at you for not letting the issue drop so I deliberately goaded you. You're always so temperamental when it comes to finances."

"Okay, let's back up about three steps a lay a foundation here," he stopped her before she could go any farther. "Do you think I married you for your money?"

"Of course, not," she shook her head. "As I recall we had some very vocal discussions when we first discussed buying a house as well."

"We did," he nodded, "now, back on point. I didn't marry you for your money, but you willingly added my name to all of the financial stuff, right?"

"Yes," there was a cautious edge in her voice as if unsure what she was agreeing to.

"So, if I didn't marry for your money," he made sure his voice was as non-threatening as possible, "but you added my name to everything making it _ours_, why claim sole ownership of it again? Should I be worried that you keep a running tab on me and if I go over my limit you'll call me on it?"

"No, it's ours," she insisted. "I was just angry."

"I want to believe you," he said sincerely, "but there are still a fair number of times where you _say_ that it's ours but _act_ like it's yours. You're the one calling me an alpha male all the time, so do you really think it sits well with me when you jab at the money issue? When you point out that I'm _not_ the one providing for this family?"

Her eyes didn't meet his as she wagged her head back and forth, so he eased up.

"Hey," he reached out to touch her for the first time since they'd left for work that morning, "look at me." After a moment she did and he continued, "Most of the time, I think we strike a pretty fair balance. We have a great house and the kids have great stuff, but they're not spoiled and on the whole I don't feel like you have me on an allowance. I've even come to grips with you buying me the plasma screen and Blu-ray player," this earned him a look and he smiled good-naturedly. "But there are boundaries when it comes to fighting fair and that money issue is deep in foul territory, okay?"

"Okay."

That simple word unhooked the lion's share of the frustration and resentment he'd been shouldering all day and he sunk back into the couch, still keeping the light contact with her hand. Fighting the wave of exhaustion that rolled over him now that the major stress was over, he yawned and closed his eyes.

He'd just about decided that the last thing could wait until morning when he felt the warmth from her hand retreat. Opening his eyes, he realized that while he was relaxing, she'd all but curled up in the fetal position and was burying herself back in her work. The clock on the wall told him they'd been talking for close to two hours, three including the time in the garage, and it was past midnight.

"Let's go to bed," he suggested lightly, tugging at the file she was clutching but doing nothing with.

"You have another cookie," she pointed to the cushion beside him. "I presume that means you have another 'issue' you wish to discuss?"

"We can cover that in the morning," he assured her.

"No," she crossed her arms and dug in, "you wanted to do this, so let's get it over with."

"It can wait," he definitely didn't want to dive into the last thing with her defenses up. "Come to bed, Temperance."

"Stop that!" she yelled and jumped up as if he'd physically hit her.

"What?" he was genuinely confused and now wide awake again. "What did I do?"

"I understand that you're angry and hurt," she was on the verge of tears that she was valiantly trying to staunch. "And I've apologized- several times- and will attempt to amend my behavior, but-"

In an instant he was standing in front of her, trying to figure out what had gone wrong and why she was shying away from him when he reached for her.

"But what?" he probed gently.

His heart nearly burst in two as she looked at him with watery eyes and in a shaky voice asked, "Why won't you call me Bones? Do you hate me that much?"

Ignoring her protests, he closed the small gap between them and encircled her in his arms, holding her close, "Shh, Bones. It's okay. I don't hate you, Bones. Shh."

"You've been deliberately calling me Temperance all night," she lifted her head away from his chest, upset, but still not crying. "Why?"

"It's not because I hate you," he assured her again. "I was hurt and trying to distance myself from things, that's all. You," he traced her jaw gently, "can make me feel a whole range of emotions, but hate is not one of them. Do you believe me, Bones?"

She didn't say anything, just nestled her head back into his chest and her arms wrapped around him, not in a clingy, needy way, but as if she were reaffirming that things were okay between them. He figured three hours of hashing things out between them, plus the whole day apart had taken its toll on them both and it felt good to hold her again knowing that real progress had been made.

After a few minutes, she informed him she was tired too and they gathered their things and went upstairs. Neither of them spoke, but their hands didn't separate until they entered their bedroom. Almost right away, she went into the bathroom and closed the door and he heard the sink run for a long time before it stopped and she finally emerged.

Wearily, they finished changing, turned off the lights, and climbed into bed. The space between them felt like a chasm despite it being less than a foot and he couldn't have been more relieved when she purposefully rolled over, picking up his free arm and wrapping it around her.

"I love you," the words floated up to him in the dark.

"I love you, too, Bones," he reassured her. "I love you too."


	74. Mummy and Mommy

Chapter 74: Mummy and Mommy

The first thing she was aware of the next morning was that she was not alone in her bed. The second thing was that whoever was with her was far too small to be her husband. Golden ringlets came into focus as her eyes opened and she smiled as Sadie moved even deeper into her embrace.

"Hi, Mommy!" the bright voice suggested Sadie had not just woken up.

"Hi," she yawned back. "What are you doing here, Little One?"

Sadie shrugged, but said nothing, her arms wrapping her mother in a fierce hug. It was clear that Temperance wouldn't be able to elicit a response right away, so she hugged Sadie in return and waited for her to explain herself.

"I'm mad at Daddy," she finally admitted. "He wouldn't take me to the Jeffers even after I said please."

"You mean yesterday?" she clarified and Sadie nodded. "Why did you want to go there?

"You weren't home when I got home," there was a pout in the little girl's voice. "So I wanted to get you."

"But I did come home," Temperance pointed out.

"You missed dinner," Sadie accused.

"Why would that make you mad at Daddy?" she was curious, wondering if Sadie realized that Seeley had cooked dinner early in an effort to avoid sharing an awkward meal.

"Uh huh," her head bobbed up and down. "Me and Daddy used to feed you at the Jeffers 'cause Daddy says you forget to eat if we don't. If we'd gone there when I asked, you wouldn't have missed dinner."

"I see," she nodded, stroking Sadie's curls.

"And I wanted to see Pete," Sadie added. "We need to have tea."

Temperance did her best to hide a smile. When Sadie was three she had declared that the mummy her mother kept on display in her office needed a name and had shortly thereafter christened him "Pete." From then on it was not uncommon for Temperance to find her young daughter conversing with Pete and including him at all of the tea parties and such that were hosted in Sadie's corner of the office.

Seeley, of course, had done nothing but encourage the play-acting, and one year for Christmas had even given Sadie a stocking with Pete's name written on it to hang by his glass case. Ever since then, he and Jack had made sure that Pete had an historically accurate Christmas gift that Sadie could play with on the nights that Temperance worked late.

"Perhaps we could arrange something for the two of you in the near future," Temperance said indulgently.

"Really?" Sadie pulled back to look at her, eyes wide with excitement. "For just you and me and Pete?"

"Would you like that?" she smiled.

"Yeah," Sadie nodded furiously, the admitted in a softer tone. "I miss you being just my mommy."

"But you miss Maddie and Joey when they're not here," she reasoned. "And just because there are more children in the house it doesn't mean that I love _you_ any less. You and I will always share a special bond because you're my daughter."

"Am I 'dopted like Maddie and Joey are gonna be?" Sadie wanted to know next.

"Yes," she answered truthfully. "Maddie and Joey are your biological siblings and all three of you are our adopted children."

"Parker says 'doption's neater 'cause the Mommy and Daddy get to choose you," the little girl said sagely, "but I think it's cool that Parker looks like Daddy." She sighed dramatically, "I wish I looked like you, Mommy. You're pretty."

She was weighing whether or not to tackle the complex issue of perceived versus actual beauty when Sadie abruptly frowned and changed the subject.

"Are you going to miss dinner again tonight?"

"I'm not planning to," Temperance shook her head.

"Good," Sadie nodded, then asked thoughtfully. "I guess I shouldn't be mean to Daddy again, huh?"

"That would be inadvisable," she agreed. "Though to be honest I didn't treat your father very kindly yesterday, either."

"Did you fight like I do sometimes with Joey?"

"Yes," Temperance admitted. "Even adults do things they are not supposed to from time to time."

"We should tell Daddy sorry," Sadie concluded.

As if on cue there was a light rapping on the door and Seeley stuck his head in and looked pointedly at Sadie, "There you are! Time to get going for school, kiddo."

The little girl hopped out of the bed, took her father's hand, and led him back to the bed.

"Sit," she commanded him when they reached her mother's side of the bed, then said to her mom, "You too."

Exchanging a bemused look, the two adults did as they were told and Sadie stood in front of them, a somber look on her face.

"Mommy and I are sorry that we were mean to you yesterday, Daddy," she informed Seeley. "Will you forgive us?"

"Yeah, Sadie-girl," he said softly, "I forgive you."

"Mommy too?" she double-checked.

Once again, the adults locked eyes, and Temperance could read his sincerity, "Mommy too."

"Oh, thank you, Daddy!" Sadie cried enthusiastically, flinging her arms as best she could around both parents. She let go of her mother and gave Seeley a long hug, then kissed him on the cheek and turned to Temperance, "You can kiss him too now."

They each hesitated, an awkward tension between them.

"It's okay, Daddy," Sadie assured him, "she won't miss dinner tonight. She promised."

Realizing that their daughter was not going to allow them to leave the room until they kissed, she leaned forward to give him a chaste peck. What should have been his cheek, however, turned out to be his lips as he moved at the same time she did. Unable to do anything but finish what they had started, they did so quickly, lingering only long enough to satisfy Sadie's requirements.

Sadie clapped, oblivious to the two stunned adults, declared her work to be done, and skipped out of the room to get ready for school. The silence between them stretched until it was broken by the wail of the alarm clock.

"Cam called," Seeley blurted out. "There's some kind of gas leak or something at the lab so you have the day off and she said to go ahead and take tomorrow off too since the case is closed."

"Oh," she blinked. "I see."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Sorry about Sadie. She was up at the crack of dawn so when she started getting sleepy again I told her she could sleep with you 'til the alarm clock went off."

"She didn't wake me up," Temperance assured him. "Though she was more than willing to talk once I was awake. Apparently she was quite disappointed that she didn't get to go to the Jeffersonian yesterday."

"Believe me," he rolled his eyes, "I know that. She was about two steps shy of a full meltdown and that was _after_ she'd terrorized Maddie and Joey while they were trying to do their homework. I'm guessing that was because she wanted to see you?"

She shook her head, "According to her she was quite worried that I would forget to eat dinner. She also misses Pete."

Booth chuckled, shaking his own head, "Only _your_ kid would miss her mummy more than her Mommy."

"Clever," she intoned drily. "Don't you need to get dressed for work or something?"

"Nope," he coughed dramatically. "I've obviously got something contagious so I'm gonna take a couple days to recoup."

"Conveniently giving you a 4-day weekend," she said knowingly.

"The case is closed, the bad guy's behind bars, and I can email the report to Caroline when I finish it," he shrugged.

"It's still lying," she pointed out, hunting up a pair of jeans since she wouldn't have to go into the lab.

"Bones," he flopped back on the bed, flashing her an upside-down smile, "over the last month and a half between the two of us we've been threatened, kidnapped, almost blown up, hospitalized, shot at, and had our kids held hostage inside the house. Not to mention we've more than doubled the house's kid population just in the last week. I'm good with whatever gets me a mini vacation."

"You'll be bored by Saturday," she said knowingly, disappearing into the closet for a shirt.

"It's a chance I'm willing to take," he said with false bravado.

The bantering felt good and natural, though there was an awkward pause when he asked if she wanted to go look for a car once the kids were at school. In the end, it seemed as if the timing could not be more ideal so she agreed, hoping silently that it would not spark another argument.

There was a good deal of prodding that was necessary in order to get the three children dressed, fed, and out the door on time. They were halfway up the street when Sadie shrieked that she had forgotten her show and tell item on the couch and after warning her about keeping her auditory levels down in the car, Seeley turned the SUV around and jogged in with her to get the prized possession when they reached the driveway. Father and daughter returned a few minutes later and he handed Joey the lunchbox that had also been on the couch.

Fortunately, the private school's starting time was earlier than the public one's, so while Sadie and Maddie were dropped off with only minutes to spare, Joey was still able to get to his classroom ten minutes early.

"Dad!" Parker beamed, intercepting them in the hallway.

"Hey, Bub," Seeley smiled, "school okay this week?"

"Yeah," the boy's tone was slightly more aloof, which she attributed to the presence of his peers. "I'm gonna ask Mom if I can come over this weekend. Last time we spent most of it in the car."

"That's fine with us," he nodded. "But don't get your hopes up just in case she has something planned, okay?"

Parker nodded reluctantly and the two talked about baseball tryouts that Parker had coming up the next weekend and whether or not Joey would be playing since he would be around for the whole season this year. He was disappointed to hear that the lab had been closed as he and Max had almost completed their project, but she promised to let him know as soon as it reopened. All too soon it was time for Parker to return to his classroom so that he would not be marked as tardy and they bid him goodbye and left.

From there, they went to several of the local dealerships, getting a "feel" as Seeley put it for what vehicle best suited their needs, as well as comparing prices. They both agreed that a mini-van was not what they were looking for, though the one that appealed most to her had enough seat belts but was too small for all of the paraphernalia she knew she would have to transport as well. In the end they settled on an almost brand-new SUV that was only slightly smaller than his government-issued one, but was a very fuel-efficient hybrid.

"Let's park mine at the Hoover and take yours for a spin?" he suggested once the paperwork was signed and she had the keys in her possession.

"I'm driving," she smirked and he nodded.

Once his SUV was safe in the Hoover parking garage, they took off. For a bit, they drove aimlessly around the city, talking about things of no real importance but enjoying each others' company for the most part. Around noon, she parked near the Mall and they went in search of food.

"So," Seeley said, settling down on the ground beside her as she finished the last of her salad and handing her half of one of the biggest cookies she'd ever seen, "shall we finish what we started?"


	75. She Said, He Said

Chapter 75: She Said, He Said

Her fingers brushed his as she took the cookie, sparks igniting between them regardless of the discussion they were about to have. She'd always affected him that way and this just upped the sexual tension that had been brewing between them since the kiss this morning.

"Where do you want to start?" she asked the question he'd been pondering long and hard all the way through lunch.

"Tell you what," he knew he had to tread carefully here, "I'm going to let you explain yourself first on this one before I go." He lifted an eyebrow, "Sound fair?"

She'd been nibbling at the cookie and nodded, though her unease around the topic was palpable.

"I presume that the last topic you wish to discuss is the digs," she looked to him for confirmation, then continued. "As I said last night, I was very upset at what I perceived to be a lack of respect for my abilities on your part. I wasn't lying when I told you about the ten invitations currently awaiting my reply."

"Why blurt that out to Cam and everyone else, though?" he pressed slightly when she fell silent.

"To get your attention," she was blunt, but not in a mean way. "I wanted you to know that just because I don't bring them up in conversation anymore, doesn't mean the invitations for me to take part in anthropological projects have stopped. I am still very much sought after within the scientific community."

"I don't doubt that you are, Bones," he thought about all of the job offers he'd gotten, the promotions he'd turned down so that they could still work together, and could appreciate that she'd been mum on the topic until now. "Anything else I should know?"

"I turned them all down," she said softly. "I never truly intended on going- just on letting you know that I could."

And there was the rub. Nearly ten years of working together and there were still certain things that she just didn't get. He let the silence fall this time, interrupted only by the mutual munching of the cookies. What he hadn't told her this morning was that he'd been up even before Sadie had because for as much as he needed to confront her on this topic, he dreaded it. The last 24 hours had been a veritable hell for him and he didn't want to rekindle any of yesterday's still-raw hurts.

"Walk with me," he invited when they'd finished, standing up and dusting off his jeans before offering her a hand.

She took it, which he took as a good sign, so he offered his elbow next, releasing the shortest sigh of relief when her arm looped inside of his. There was a crowd gathering by the reflecting pool at the Lincoln Memorial for some demonstration, so he led them in the opposite direction through the Constitution Gardens.

They both paused for a long moment beside the World War II Memorial, and Booth said a prayer, crossing himself, before they went on and crossed 17th Street.

"Tidal Basin?" he asked, nodding toward the water.

She agreed and they made the short trek to the footpath in good time. The Mid-April sun shone down warmly on them through the cherry blossoms and they both drank in the rich fragrance.

"I thought you wanted to talk?" she asked casually when they were relatively alone.

He looked over and smiled down at her, "Relax, Bones, I'm not gonna bite your head off this time."

They found a bench and sat down, fingers lacing together out of habit, and he faced her again, "Okay, so, there are two things we need to talk about and one thing that I want you to know. Any preferences where I start?"

She shook her head, so he went with the hard part first just to get it out of the way, "Right. The first thing we need to discuss is what we discuss in public."

"We're in public now," she pointed out rationally.

"Public meaning our co-workers and friends," he clarified. "I know we talked about it a little bit the last time we fought but there's a time and a place for talking about problems that you and I might have, but anytime during the workday and _definitely_ anywhere in the lab are off limits."

"What about my office?" she asked thoughtfully. "Or yours for that matter?"

"Offices are okay if we absolutely can't wait 'til we get home, sure," he agreed. "As long as the doors are closed. Look, this is an important one for us to agree on. I would've been able to talk things out with you yesterday if you hadn't gone and aired our dirty laundry in front of the whole team."

"By addressing Cam?" her voice was small.

He nodded, "Yup, and at the end of a meeting where everyone got clued in that something was off between the two of us, because you practically told them you were running away."

"I did not!" she said defensively. "I specifically said that I was _considering_ agreeing to such a trip and as I just told you, I declined all of them."

"That is what you said," he confirmed, "but- and this is the second bit we need to discuss- what everyone there _heard_ was that we were fighting and you were bailing on me- on us and on our family. Hell, Bones, you did it enough early on it's not too much of a leap for them to assume that."

"I would never leave you _or_ our family!" she reacted every bit as vehemently as he'd expected, freeing her hand from his to cross her arms defensively over her chest. "I am not my mother!"

_"I_ know that, Bones," he soothed quickly, reaching out to her leg to reestablish a connection. "Which is why I'm not accusing you of doing such, but I am _telling_ you that that's the perception you're putting out there. If you have a point to make to me because I've upset you somehow, that's fine- honest, Bones, it is- but no grandstanding in front of our friends and no threatening to leave, got it?"

She huffed and puffed and at first he wasn't sure she'd gotten in, but eventually her jaw slackened, arms unfolding to hand limply beside her, and she nodded, "Is this more of the 'fighting fair' concept you introduced last night?"

He smiled, proud of her, "Yup, and for the record fighting fair on my end means no bottling things up and shutting you out even when things are painful for me to talk about. And no lashing out just to hurt you."

"I can agree to those as well," she nodded, as they stood up and began walking again, then flicked her eyes to his. "I do apologize, Seeley, both for the things done intentionally and otherwise."

"And I forgive you." His lips turned upwards, then became a smirk as he asked, "Does this mean we get to kiss again?"

If there were people on the path with them, neither one of them registered that fact, or cared, as they stopped in their tracks and kissed. Far from the accidental meeting of the lips they'd had this morning, this was a full-bodied kiss, that reaffirmed their words and re-centered them as a couple. They pulled apart just shy of becoming publicly indecent and this time when her arm looped inside of his, her head rested on his shoulder as well.

"Now, for the thing I want you to know," he said, when they'd had several minutes of peaceful silence between them.

"You mean one that doesn't come with a partially-eaten confectionery treat?" she teased, poking his stomach.

"Hey, this is a good thing in and of itself, trust me," he smiled and she waved him on to continue. He slowed their walk down to almost nothing and made sure he had her full attention before he went on so she didn't miss anything, "I love you, Bones."

"And I love you," she replied, cocking her head to one side and scrunching her nose up.

"No," he shook his head gently, stepping in front of her so that he could cup her face gently, "I love _you_, Bones, all of you. I love the warm, open-hearted wife and mother that you've become, but I also love the Dr. Brennan side of you that all of the uppity squints we rub shoulders with wish they could be.

"I know that you had to've gotten your fair share of snide comments from your peers for turning down your digs, just like the guys at the Hoover don't get why I've turned down promotion after promotion." She started to protest, so he explained himself further, "Look, if you're fine with that, than fine, but don't feel like you have to deny yourself just because you have a family."

"I'm not going to run away from you, Seeley," she insisted. "I don't need to."

"But do you _want_ to?" he asked. "Not run away, I mean, but go on a dig; go back to your anthropology roots? I know how much you like that side of your job and how little you get to indulge yourself."

"I still handle a fair number of authentications for the museum," she told him, "and I enjoy working on the remains in Limbo as well."

"That was fun doing that together the last time," he agreed. "You can't tell me that a part of you doesn't want to head out into the wide world again, though. I know, you, Bones, and I want you to know that if there's ever a dig you want to go on all you have to do is tell me and we'll work out all of the details.

"Now," he conceded, "this summer's looking a little packed with all of the changes in the family, plus the book tour, but if you wanted to do something next summer- or even over Christmas break- we could look into it."

"But the children-" she protested. "Considering the difficulties you had with Sadie yesterday when she couldn't join me, I'm surprised you would endorse my leaving them for any significant length of time."

"Who said anything about leaving them?"

"You're proposing we would travel together?" she was incredulous.

"Why not?" he shrugged. "I mean, you do get offers to go to _safe_ places too, right?"

"Yes," she nodded, warming slightly to the concept. "But the cost would be exorbitant, not to mention if we went over Christmas they might miss school."

"Oh come on, you can't tell me that reading about the pyramids is better than seeing them in person!" he shook his head. "Think of all the cultural nuances you could expose them to and teach them about. And as for the price, well, I'm pretty sure that if that book tour of yours can cover a fleet of brand-new cars, a few trips abroad every year will be nothing."

She was quiet as they continued their trek around the large Basin, but he watched the idea circle around inside of her, then take root. A fire came into her eyes that he hadn't seen since their early days of their partnership and he kicked himself for not offering this to her sooner.

By the time they'd made it all the way around and were heading back to her car, she was talking non-stop about the potential offers that she was sure would fall around Christmas time and all of the enrichment opportunities they would have for the kids. The book tour, she decided, would be the perfect time for a dry run of how she and Booth could swap parenting duties and how well the kids traveled. She even suggested they do the East Coast part of the tour with her too until he gently reminded her that he only had so much time off that the Bureau would give him.

They were almost to the car when his phone rang.

"Booth," he answered.

"Care to explain why your car is in the parking garage when you've called off sick?" a stern Cullen wanted to know.

"Well, Sir," he straightened up, "you see-"

"I don't want to know," the other man cut him off. "But unless you have the Bubonic Plague, I'd suggest you go find yourself a suit and haul your ass back in here on the double. Mitchell wants to meet with you and Dr. Brennan at three."

"Yes, Sir," Booth said, a quick glance at his watch telling him it was two now so they needed to get a move on and call somebody to pick up the kids. "We'll be there."


	76. The Proposition

Chapter 76: The Proposition

His body language stiffened, indicating that the call was most likely work-related and required his full attention. She afforded him a wide berth as a means of privacy and opened some of the windows in the car to air it out.

"Change of plans," he said, hopping in the passenger's seat while she was in the middle of presetting her radio stations. "Cullen says Mitchell wants us in for a meeting in his office at three."

"Both of us?" she tried to remember if anyone that high up the FBI chain of command had ever requested her presence and couldn't recall that they had.

"Apparently," Seeley shrugged. "Cullen said I need a suit too, so it must be important."

"I suppose I should change as well," she looked down at the jeans and t-shirt she had on before starting the engine. "Are we going to the Hoover to get your car?"

He shook his head, "We don't have time, plus if this goes south it could be a good thing to have a non-company getaway car."

"You're anticipating being reprimanded?" she asked as she climbed into the driver's seat and began driving them home.

"No, I was joking," he assured her, and then frowned. "I really don't know what he wants."

"Perhaps just to be debriefed on the case now that it's closed?" she suggested. "He did take a rather personal interest in it."

"Let's hope it's that simple," he smiled. "Guess I should call Max."

She attempted to focus on the road as he called her father and arranged for Max to pick up the children from school. The biggest hassle would be getting Joey and Sadie's car seats from Booth's SUV at the Hoover. They worked out all of the details and finalized the last of the arrangements just as she pulled into the driveway.

Twenty minutes later, they emerged, showered and professionally dressed, and were back in the car and headed back toward the city. The banter between them was kept light and mostly over who controlled the radio station in a car where she was the primary driver. Neither one of them ventured any further opinions as to what the meeting could be about.

Eventually, the talk shifted to the children and how they thought everyone was adapting, as well as what long-term plans needed to be implemented to make scheduling conflicts easier. Booth was just as opposed to hiring a full-time nanny as he had been three years ago, and Temperance agreed, but argued that her father might not always be willing or able to step in as he had recently. She then commented that she hoped the meeting wouldn't run too late, given her promise to Sadie that she would not miss dinner.

At quarter of three, she pulled into the Hoover garage and parked beside Seeley's vehicle. Her father was already waiting for them.

"Gettin' nervous, there, Max?" Seeley teased.

"Nah," the old conman grinned. "Now, if we were meeting on, say, the roof, I might be; though I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"I bet you do," Seeley smirked.

Temperance watched the exchange between the two men, sensing there was a story behind it that she was not privy to. Right then, however, was not the time to contemplate such things and she tapped her husband's arm to indicate it was time for them to go. Max waved them off, saying that he would wrestle the seats in on his own, and they left.

They passed through security and took the elevator to the fourth floor. When they stepped out, Temperance realized that this was a part of the building she'd never been in before, and she slowed her pace slightly to allow Seeley the lead. Unlike Seeley's floor, this part had no bullpen, and seemed rather to be a never ending stretch of posh offices; or at least posh waiting rooms- the offices themselves were closed, and had none of the glass walls that Seeley's did.

"Hey Margret," Booth greeted the middle-aged secretary by name as they entered the largest of the waiting room areas. "Cullen said Director Mitchell wanted to see us."

Margret smiled politely at both Booths and directed them to sit while she informed the Director that they were there. Temperance felt her husband's hand at her back as they walked over to a very comfortable-looking arrangement of furniture and sat down.

"Would you care for any coffee?" Margret asked when she was finished.

They both politely declined, which Temperance felt was for the best as Seeley's legs were already bouncing anxiously. He also began chattering nervously the longer they waited and stated several times that he needed to get a comfortable chair like the one he was in for his office. At precisely three o'clock, a chime sounded at Margret's desk and they were admitted into the main office.

It was at least three times bigger than Booth's, the middle section as well-furnished as the waiting room was, and two of the walls were lined with built-in mahogany bookshelves that were filled, but very neat and orderly. The wall behind the wide desk looked out onto the city, and the fourth wall was filled with all of the commendations Director Mitchell had received throughout his career, interspersed with some tasteful art pieces.

The man himself was perhaps ten years Booth's senior, but was still relatively lean and obviously took good care of his body. He had a neatly trimmed white beard and his thick, wavy locks showed no signs of thinning. When they entered, he stretched his easily six foot four frame from behind his desk and walked around it to greet them personally.

"Special Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, welcome," he offered each of them a firm handshake before motioning for them to have a seat in the furnished area.

He took his place near a leather wing-back chair at the top of the coffee table and to their left. Three porcelain cups and saucers were before them, along with a brass carafe of coffee and a small platter of hors d'oeuvers that he held out, first to Brennan, then to Booth. He then sat down and crossed his legs, his fingers steepling while his elbows rested on either side.

"Thank you both for coming at such short notice," he began. "As you know, this latest case of yours caught my attention and I was very pleased when Director Cullen informed me that you managed not only to track down the serial killer but elicit a confession from him as well."

"Agent Booth was the one who interrogated him," Temperance was quick to point out. "He's highly skilled in that area."

"So I've noticed," Mitchell smiled kindly at her. "Now what I must also confess is that I've had my eye on the two of you for quite some time now; in point of fact ever since I was brought to oversee this branch six years ago.

"I believe you had been working together for approximately two years at that juncture," he went on when neither of them said anything at his small pause, "and what struck me was how successfully you were merging your two disciplines. I was also very impressed at the lengths both of you had gone to in order to expose the conspiracy involving my predecessor. I believe you were even suspended for a time, correct, Agent?"

Seeley cleared his throat before answering carefully, "Yes. Yes, sir, I was. But not for long."

"Still," the man said admiringly, "you had been with the Agency less than ten years at the time and from what I've gathered it was a very bold move considering the man you were aiming for was a highly-decorated sniper. Though you are as well, correct?"

"Yes," Booth nodded without a trace of pride.

"Gulf War?"

"That's correct."

Mitchell smiled, "Well, now, I was a Squid Commander at the time, but you Ranger boys helped us out of a couple of tight spots so I can't fault you too much."

Temperance ran through her mental lexicon of military slang but failed to identify the branch that a "squid" might be referencing. At her side, Seeley had relaxed and cracked his first genuine smile since entering the office.

"He was Navy, Bones," Seeley explained.

"Non sibi, sed Patriae!" Mitchell recited.

"'Not for self, but country,'" she translated easily.

"You're a Latin scholar, Dr. Brennan?" Mitchell raised an eyebrow and she nodded. "We'll have to chat someday. But, as I was saying, I have watched the two of you closely over the years and have been more than impressed with your track record. That being said, are you both familiar with what a 'passover promotion' is?"

Booth answered, "Yes" as Brennan answered, "No" and they both turned to Mitchell as if on cue to explain himself.

"Simply put, Dr. Brennan, it means that a job position is opening and rather than give it to someone with more experience we're going to 'pass over' them and award it to someone else," Mitchell explained.

"You mean Agent Booth?" she queried, unsure she was reading his implication correctly.

"Exactly," Mitchell nodded, "though it involves both of you and, just so you're aware, I don't expect an answer from you today."

"What are you offering me, Sir?" Seeley asked, a note of hesitation in his voice.

"Don't worry," Mitchell waved him off, "I'm aware of all the desk jockey positions you've turned down in the past and though this is more supervisory in nature, you will still be out in the field a fair amount of the time."

There was a slight pause as he let the partners digest that much and then he continued, "As you probably know, Director Cullen will be retiring in September. Now, his replacement has already been selected, but this will leave us free to restructure a few things and begin a pilot program that would involve the two of you.

"Agent Booth, I would like to make you an SSA, Supervisory Special Agent, in charge of a select team that would be comprised of both FBI agents and scientists from the Jeffersonian. Dr. Brennan, we would like you to be in charge of the Jeffersonian's side of this team. The team's goals, your goals, would be to enact policies concerning agent-scientist cooperation, and train agents and squints to work together on Major Crimes Unit cases where heavily compromised remains are involved.

"Dr. Saroyan and Deputy Director Cullen and I have been ironing out some of the political issues surrounding this merger of sorts and believe we have come to a fair and balanced agreement for both sides. The only thing we lack," he looked between the two of them, "are qualified team leaders."

Booth found his voice first, "Where would this be based, Sir? Because we have kids who can't be uprooted."

"In D.C. for the most part," Mitchell answered smoothly. "The Jeffersonian has generously offered us one of their unused buildings for office and training purposes, as well as the same access to the lab and its resources that you've had for the past eight years. Occasional out-of-state trips will arise, I'm sure, but our ultimate aim is to gather the best agents and the best scientists from around the country, and pair them up based on personalities and that sort of thing, train them to work together so that we can assign them elsewhere.

"Now, I've taken a good deal of your time already, so here," at this he produced a thick manilla envelope, "is a more detailed proposal for the two of you to look over. Please, take tomorrow off, Agent Booth, and feel free to contact me if you have any further questions. I'll look forward to hearing back from both of you when you've made your decision."

Stunned at the enormity of the offer, they accepted the folder, said their goodbyes, and left.

"I suppose I'll see you at home," she spoke for the first time when they reached the parking garage. "Does one of us need to stop for food? It's only four-thirty."

Seeley shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and focus on her question, "Max said he'd whip something up and have it ready by six, so we're good. You've got the envelope, right?"

She held it up and he nodded, looking between the two vehicles as if he wished they didn't have to drive separately.

"We should go," she urged, knowing that rush-hour traffic on the Beltway would only escalate the longer they waited. "We can talk tonight once everyone is in bed."

Slowly, he dug out his keys and they both moved to their respective cars and got in. She was the first one to back out, so she led the way out to the road. As she suspected, by the time they were on the major highway, traffic was starting to build and was already stop-and-go at some points. What was usually a twenty to thirty minute drive, took a full hour before their house finally came into view.

"Ready to face the mob?" he asked as they stood together in the garage, neither one of them moving forward.

"I suppose," she shrugged ambivalently, her mind still processing how drastically things could change for them over the next several months.

"Hey, Bones, look at me," he encircled her waist with one hand and used the other to lightly trace her jaw line. "No matter what happens next, we are the center-"

"-and the center must hold," she finished, tone matching his confidence, eyes meeting his as their lips fell together for a long, deep kiss.


	77. All Good Things

Chapter 77: All Good Things...

"They're out here kissing!" Sadie's dutiful cry made Booth's ears ring.

A moment later forty pounds of little girl came flying at them, nearly taking Booth's knees out as she slammed into both of their legs.

"Mommy! You're home!" Sadie exclaimed, putting her arms out to be held.

"I am," Bones smiled, amused, "and so are you."

"Of course I am silly," the little girl giggled. "Wow! Is that a new car? Ca-MAY I see it? Please?"

Without waiting for an answer she squirmed out of her mother's arms and dashed over to the new SUV, oohing and awing as she ran a hand over the shiny surface. Before long she was on her tiptoes, then hopping up and down trying to peek inside the tinted windows.

"It's huge!" she grinned. "I wanna see the inside please!"

"You can have a quick peek and then we're heading in," Booth agreed, opening the back door for her. "I'm starving!"

"Grandpa's making chicken stuff," Sadie informed them off-handedly, climbing through the doorway and into the backseat.

There were several exclamations and giggles as she discovered all of the little side pockets and other features tucked in the two rows of backseats.

"Time to go, Sadie-girl," he called.

There was a sigh from inside the car but she came almost right away. Booth smiled as she emerged with arms extended again and he picked her up. Instead of hopping down, though, she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

"I missed you today, Daddy," she told him. "Did you miss me?"

"I missed not getting to pick you up from school," he answered honestly as they headed into the house. "Did you have a good day?"

"Uh huh," she nodded. "There was a p'liceman who came in and told us not to talk to strangers and I told him that you made a password for us, but I didn't tell him what it is."

"Good girl," he smiled.

"Daddy," she looked up at him as he set her down in the living room, "are FBI guys better than regular p'licemen?"

"They're _way_ better, Sadie," Joey piped up from where he sat playing with his Legos. "We always beat 'em in hockey!"

"Well, in hockey, yeah," Booth nodded with a smile, "but we're all the good guys when we go to work."

"That's what the p'liceman said when I told him that my daddy was a special agent," Sadie informed them.

"Special agent _in charge_," Joey corrected her.

"I knew that," Sadie huffed.

Joey rolled his eyes but dropped it and went back to his Legos.

"Homework done, son?" Booth checked.

"I still have spelling," the boy shrugged, "but that's easy."

Bones was over in the dining room helping Maddie set the table for dinner so Booth had Joey hunt up his spelling book and quizzed him on his words while Sadie started playing with the Legos. Sure enough, Joey had them down pat.

"Okay, last one," Booth announced. "Spell 'piece,' like a piece of cake."

Joey tried and failed a couple of times and was growing more and more frustrated with himself as he went on.

"I know how to spell it," Sadie boasted.

"No you don't," Joey shook his head. "You're not even in Kindergarten."

"I do too," she crossed her arms and pouted.

"Prove it," he challenged her.

"P-i-e-c-e," she said triumphantly, looking to Booth for approval.

"She's right," Booth told a frowning Joey. "How'd you know that, Kiddo?"

"Mommy says pie is 'p-i-e' and that if you want a _piece_ all you add is 'c' and 'e.' It's on the menu at the diner," Sadie explained with a grin. "I'm gonna be able to read the whole menu some day when I'm old like six or seven. Maybe eight."

Booth schooled his face not to laugh and was more than thankful when Max called them for dinner. The food was good and the conversation lively, but several times he caught his wife's eyes and knew she was thinking about the offer as much as he was.

Max decided to stay over and pitched in with the bedtime routine like an old pro. As soon as the three of them were alone, though, he started asking what the impromptu meeting had been about; guessing it had something to do with why the two of them had been so relatively quiet since they'd gotten home. When he settled they outlined the basic gist of Mitchell's proposal and to Booth's surprise when they finished, Bones asked her dad for his opinion on whether or not they should accept.

Max made a jibe about Booth not getting any younger, then sobered, "If it was me; I'd take it in a heartbeat. From what you've told me once things get past the initial setup phase it sounds like you both might get a shot at normal office hours. Plus it's a step up for Booth, which is long overdue. If you need me to pinch hit for you here and there until things settle down, just say the word."

Bones thanked him, then fell into a contemplative silence. Eventually, Max made his excuses and headed to the guest room for the night.

"What do you suppose he meant by his comment on our office hours?" she asked as they lay in bed an hour later.

Booth held back a sigh, thankful for the darkness and prayed his answer wouldn't spark another fight, "He was probably talking about how our hours affect the kids. I mean, summers are one thing..."

He trailed off because there was nothing more for him to say that they hadn't debated a thousand times over the last three years. Change was inevitable once they'd gotten the adoption process going for Maddie and Joey and they both knew that the perfect alternative had been all but gift-wrapped for them in Mitchell's office.

"I like that we'd still be partners," she admitted, scooting her way onto his side of the bed.

"Me too, Bones," he gathered her into his arms. "Me too."

The lab was still closed the next day and Cullen called and told Booth to take the day off, so after spending the morning going over the written specifics Mitchell had given them, they invited the squints over for lunch. Cam, of course, already knew what was in the works- as did Sweets- and between the four of them they were able to explain to Jack, Angela, Clark, and Wendell what would happen should the pair accept the offer.

"What about the DC cases that come up while you're off training new people?" Jack wanted to know.

"While we may assign some of the more advanced trainees to observe and assist with a live investigation," Bones fielded the question, "Clark and Wendell are more than qualified to take over the forensics, alongside you, Angela, and Cam."

"And our FBI liaison will be?" the bug man's eyes narrowed.

"Perotta," Booth answered, daring any one of them to protest with a look he'd perfected on Parker and Sadie over the years. "She'll be the SAC of Major Crimes and the Jeffersonian liaison just like I was and she'll do a good job at it too."

"How official _is_ this, Booth?" Ange asked warily, obviously picking up on what he wasn't saying.

He shifted his weight and looked over at Bones to find she was already looking at him. Time came to a grinding halt as the world narrowed to just the two of them. Her eyes flickered only a millimeter and he knew her answer was the same as his. The next thing he knew she was at his side- just as she had always been- fingers enmeshed with his own as they looked up to address their little family.

"We've accepted," Bones was the one to speak the words. "We spoke with Director Mitchell this morning and the transitions will be made effective at the end of the month to give us time to prepare for September when our students will be sent."

Clark nodded, murmuring his congratulations, while Wendell stepped forward and clasped Booth's hand and smiled warmly at his former supervisor, wishing her well. Beside them Angela's gasp didn't go unheard and Jack was there to hold her when she flew to him, though he was clearly shocked himself. Cam and Sweets, meanwhile, sported sad smiles- each knowing how inevitable this moment was- though their prior knowledge had done little to lessen the blow in the end.

Max materialized out of who knew where with a bottle of their good wine in tow. He passed out the glasses and proposed a toast: "To old friends and new beginnings."

The chatter was idle as they all started talking about what a good move this was from Booth and Dr. Brennan and how they would all still see each other regularly. One by one, though, the squints said their goodbyes until only Max, Jack, and Angela remained. Max quietly offered to pick up all of the Booth and Hodgins kids from school and left before anyone could object.

"You know, Bren," Angela said as the four of them moved out to the back porch and settled down with the rest of the wine, "somehow I always thought it would be me moving on before you did."

Booth watched as the two friends exchanged a wry smile, unsurprised when the artist announced that she was claiming all Tuesday lunches as 'girl dates' from now on, not to mention a monthly 'girl's night out.' He and Jack laughed and agreed, joking about needing guy nights out too. The more they talked about it the better the idea sounded and though they'd never call them 'guy dates' they did plan on doing a few things together outside of work. Booth even offered to get Jack in on the FBI fantasy football league, which he assured him was way better than the Jeffersonian's.

There would also be all of the holidays and birthdays that the two families already spent together, assuring that even if their work relationship wasn't the same anymore, their personal lives still would be. Later that night as all of their kids played kickball together in the back yard until there wasn't enough light to see he realized that this change would mean more nights like tonight, where family- not catching the next murderer- could be the central focus, but he and Bones could still make a difference at home and at work. And for the first time in his FBI career Booth was ready to move to the next stage.

* * *

**There will be one more chapter after this and then the journey will be over for this tale. I love these characters too much to let go for good, though, so as long as there is interest, there will be another story. Most likely I'll take a bit of time off and regroup to plan for the next phase of their lives before starting anything new. Thanks to all of you who've joined me on this incredible journey and especially to all of you who've left reviews. I read and appreciate each and every one of them.**

**Gum :)**


	78. Paying Tribute

Chapter 78: Paying Tribute

Their final weeks as a team at the Jeffersonian were some of the most emotionally taxing, not because of the upcoming change, but because of the fallout from their last case. The remains of all of ten girls, as well as Joelle Wynn's body, had been released for burial and the partners had taken it upon themselves to contact each family personally and explain what had led them to reopen their cases, and what charges were being laid against Fuller by the FBI.

In some instances the families were still trying to come to terms with having to rebury their daughters, so the partners spared them the added pain and anguish of divulging the minutia of what had happened in the girls' last hours. Others took their grief in stride, grateful for the work that had been done, and were satisfied that Fuller would soon be put on trial for his atrocities. None of the meetings was easy.

Late one April morning under appropriately gray skies the entire Squint Squad stood solemnly by Cara Wynn's side as she and her two surviving children, along with a smattering of friends and family, buried Joelle. Temperance had insisted on covering the funeral costs and Cam was able to offer Cara a job on the maintenance staff at the Jeffersonian that included health benefits and paid more than the other woman's two jobs combined. It would also enable her to move her family into a safer neighborhood. Cara had wept at the offer and assured them all that she would never forget their compassion and generosity.

The day before the transition took place, Booth got the call he'd been waiting for. It took a little to convince his wife that what he had to do next was something he needed to do alone, and in the end they compromised by letting her come, but watch on the closed-circuit security feed several floors away from where he was going.

"Are your girls safe, Agent Booth?" the question was wheezed at him as he entered the room.

"Safe and sound, Ben," he manged, taking the papery thin hand that was extended to him and squeezing it gently.

The Booths had refused to press charges again the dying man who had kidnapped Temperance, arguing if it weren't for Ben Hairston, they would likely never have caught Frank Fuller. Ben and his ex-wife had been on-hand when they'd released Lily's remains and the two had clung to one another; weeping an grieving for the family they'd lost so long ago. Not long afterward Ben's health had taken a turn for the worst and he was placed into hospice care.

Standing the hospital room now, Booth sensed that the man was hanging on by a mere thread.

"We have a trial date," Booth informed him, sitting down in the hard plastic chair beside the bed. "August 6th."

"Good," Ben was interrupted by a fit of coughs before he could continue. "Put him away for us, will you? For all of them?"

"I will," Booth promised soberly.

"I'm not going to last that long," the frail man whispered. "I wanted to, but I can't."

Booth nodded. Two weeks ago when Ben had been stronger they'd gone through the legal process of recording his testimony against Fuller for Caroline to use in court, detailing how he'd caught onto the killer's trend in the first place and the lengths he'd gone to to bring those deeds to light.

Ben asked how plans for the transition were coming so Booth filled him in on what their latest goals for the curriculum were and how they'd thought about structuring things. Despite the rest of his color, the sick man's azure eyes lit up, pleased, he said, at the prospect of scientists finally receiving the respect they deserved.

Only minutes later Ben was gripped by a coughing jag so bad that it set his monitors off and brought his nurse running to his side. She waited for it to finally pass, then offered him a fresh dose of pain meds, warning they would make him tired. Weakly, he nodded and when the nurse dispensed it and left the two men exchanged a knowing look and said goodbye as Ben succumbed to the drugs' strong pull.

When the door clicked behind him, Booth let out a long, loud sigh in an effort to keep his stronger emotions at bay. A slight but strong arm wrapped around his, pulling him into a tight hug while her eyes shone with unshed tears and told him that no words were necessary. Time stretched out as they stood motionless in the hall, measured only by the thudding of their beating hearts.

"Let's go get the children from school," she suggested all of a sudden, still not pulling far away from him.

"Really?" it was only a little past ten in the morning, though technically there was no work left for them to do.

She nodded, "Yes. All four of them. We can pick up a picnic lunch and spend the afternoon at the park and then camp out in the living room tonight while we dine on unhealthy, processed foods along with copious amounts of sugar."

"You going rogue on me now, Bones?" he chuckled, bumping her shoulder with his.

Her eyes sparkled with a vivacity and excitement he hadn't seen in a long time. "No, but right now I suspect we both want to see them. Hold them. They-" she faltered ever so slightly before recovering. "They are our family, Seeley, one we've chosen to create and nurture for as long as they need us. I believe honoring and celebrating that is the best way to pay tribute to the families we've served over the years who most likely wish they had that opportunity again."

"Mmm, have I ever told you how much I love you, Temperance Joy Booth?" he asked, linking her fingers with his as they turned and walked off.

"Perhaps," she tilted her head, smiling wide. "Though repetition of that nature is never a bad thing."

When they reached the car, he pressed her up against it, voice husky with emotion, "I love you, Bones. Always have. Always will. Let's go collect our family."

* * *

**And that's all she wrote.**

**Wow. This has been an incredible journey and I'm so glad for all of you who've joined me along the way. As I said before, this isn't technically the end of these characters, but the end of this chapter in their lives. I'm taking a bit of a break to focus on my other fic, Horizon Line, but watch for an Author's Note here when I decide to do a new one. Thank you all so much for the reviews and input you've given over the last year.**

**Enjoy the summer!**

**Gum :)  
**


	79. The Next Story Has Landed

**A/N: The next part in this saga is up and takes places three years from Behind Blue Eyes. I'll be updating regularly once a week on Mondays. Hope you enjoy, Nobody Knows Me(Like My Baby). **

**Gum :)**


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